Well, real life politics are never interesting since they involve too much talking and negotiating. My politics are interesting because they involve plotting, intrigue and murder. Besides, I don't think I'm the only with a fan fic which is heavily concerned with provincial politics. There must be others...I think. Anyway.

~~~
I carefully suited up in my kit of specially designed steel armour, given to me by his Majesty King Lhotun himself. I always liked putting on my armour. Even though it was a long and laborious process it made me feel proud to be a knight. I enjoyed the sounds of metal clanking about as I tried to strap on my cuirass, and the sound of my blade as I drew it out of its scabbard, just to make sure it was nice and sharp. The way it caught any sources of light, making it shine, was also nice. Strapping on my scabbard on my belt, and tying the belt around my waste using the wooden belt strap carved in the shape of a curved sword made me feel like a Redguard warrior of old, preparing to go to battle against Azura-knows-what fiend.

Last but not least, I put on my gauntlets, moving my fingers around in them like a lizard stretching its limbs while basking in the sun. The sound of steel stretching was a sound of great beauty, only recognized by those intimate with heavy armour. Fighting wasn't glamorous. There is little actual beauty about fighting, not like they make it sound in songs and old tales. There is nothing glorious about hacking apart the man next to you for reasons which are not your own to decide. Seldom do men decide their own fate. The illusion of choice is always there however. The only thing which frees you of the illusion of choice is battle. There, you fight for your own fate, and your opponent fights for his.

It is a horrendous feeling one gets when another charges towards you, weapon in hand, intent on killing you. Once it happens however and you manage to survive to tell the tale, you become an entirely different person. You will never be the man you once were after you have killed. It is an experience through which all warriors go through. You can come out of it as a wreck, denying who you are, or you can come out of it changed, at ease with your new self.

These are lessons every warrior goes through. However, now was not a time of fighting and killing. Now was a time of sublime investigation of manipulation. The king of Rihad was King Sorian, cousin of the late King Sosscan of Bergama, whom I had killed with my own hand. He wouldn't have much love for me if I declared myself openly so I would have to go under a cover name. Under the guise of something else. As I stood in my armour, thinking, an idea came. I would be Vilamon, Knight-Errant in search of glory, and what better place to search for glory than the Royal Court of King Sorian? King Lhotun had told me about the court of Rihad and the more prominent nobles. He had even given me information about one of our agents infiltrated in the court of Rihad, which could give me more information once I arrived there.

The only thing left to do was to actually go on the journey. At least I wouldn't be alone. I would have two companions for once, odd ones at that, but companions all the same. A route had to be chosen though. I could either take a ship or go on land. After my last experience on water, I decided to take a more earth-bound approach. There were two main ways to get to Rihad. Either take the long way along the eastern coast of Hammerfell, or the somewhat shorter way inland, going North-West to Lainlyn then South to Rihad. Out of those three, I decided to take the shorter route. With that in mind, I went down the stairs to the Tavern common-rooms. There I found my companions waiting for me.

Soon enough, we were on the road to Rihad. I soon began a discussion with Beomir regarding our route however. Being the highwayman that he was he must have surely known a route which would take us quicker to Rihad.

"Well, there is a way which would take us quicker. I used this way alot in the old days." Beomir said, reffering to the days he was a highwayman.

"And where exactly will it lead us?" I asked, curious on learning more.

"It goes through the middle of the wilderness, near the edge of the Alik'r until we reach the city of Riverview, where we can rest. Afterwards, by way of back-country roads which I happen to know of, we can reach Taneth in less than a day's time. Afterwards, we can take the straight road to Rihad." Beomir said.

"Well, what are we waiting for then?" I asked, impatiently.

"The only problem I could think of is that bandits and other folk of ill repute wander those roads. I wouldn't really want to have a run-in with them at unawares without a trusty band of lads behind me. My time as an outlaw has left me with some rivals, rivals that wouldn't have any quarells about killing me on sight. We Nords aren't as mannered as you Redguards or Bretons you see. We'll run someone through at the first chance we get if we're angry on that someone." Beomir said, with uncertainty in his voice, if not fear.

"Fair enough, some of us Redguards can be like that too. But still, you've got me behind you, and you've got old what's-his-name here as well. Brian, is it?" I said, trying to encourage Beomir to show me the way. I really wasn't going to trudge along like an idiot when I could be going along in half the time, despite the danger.

"It's Belwin." the Breton said with a slightly annoyed look. It seemed he didn't like it when people messed up his name.

"Well, you're right. This Boric fellow is pretty good in a pinch as well, what with the invisibility and all that." Beomir said with a smile. Belwin wasn't smiling though.

"It's Belwin for Azura's sake!" he said, almost shouting.

"You shouldn't have messed up his name." I said, slightly whispering, to Beomir. I did so knowing well that I had messed up Belwin's name in the first place.

"Me?! You were the one who messed up his name in the first place! Why are you throwing the blame on me?" Beomir shouted angrily. Alright, so this guy can't take a joke. Doesn't harm trying though.

"Alright, enough with the bickering. So are you going to show me this way of yours to Rihad or not?" I asked, settling the argument.

"Well, ok then. But make sure you're ready to draw your blade whenever you see someone. You can't tell friend from foe in my line of work. Besides, I might have some former "associates" on my tracks." Beomir said.

"That makes two of us. I might have some groups on my tracks as well so you keep your axe ready at all times just in case. You never know who you might meet in my line of work as well." I said, keeping up with Beomir. The Forebears might have been angry because of that little "bar-brawl" we had back in Sentinel.

"Aren't you knights supposed to be an honourable bunch who don't go around causing trouble?" Belwin asked, innocently.

"Not in Sentinel at least." I said. The Breton nodded to my response then continued riding.

We had been riding for three hours now and still no sign of the trail Beomir spoke of. It had been "right after the next corner" for about two miles now and I was seriously starting to doubt it really existed. Up until the current moment we had met no other living creature except a few birds idly chirping in the trees.

I hoped it stayed that way until we reached Rihad, but I knew we had faint chances of not meeting something interested in us for ill reasons, be it man or beast. I had discovered however that men were far above beasts when it came to idle slaughter. In all the battles I had been through, I had seen men bestially stabbing eachother as if the whole world was going to end and one man was the only thing keeping the other from salvation. When it came to close combat, long swords really weren't all that effective. Long swords needed room to swing and to maneuvre properly. If you didn't have these things in mind, you could end up injuring yourself as well as your comrades.

In close combat, the most effective killer and weapon of choice for most soldiers was the dagger or the short sword. With these weapons you could stab freely without the threat of injuring your comrades. You could easily close the distance between a heavily armoured knight and yourself then give the finishing blow with a quick thrust to the neck or a quick stab in his helmet's eye hole. I had seen Redguard warriors with daggers before and I can certify, that the deadliest weapon you can find on a field is the dagger.

Combat philosophy and ethics (if there ever was such a thing) aside, it seemed that we had finally arrived at Beomir's trail, which broke off from the main road which continued onwards to Lainlyn. If Beomir's plans went correctly, we would arrive at the main road once more somewhere close to Taneth, from which our journey would be much easier. If not, we would most likely end up in some ditch on the side of the road as carrion for birds. Pretty positive outcomes don't you think?
~~~
With that ends this philosophy heavy update.

Philosophy-heavy? Gosh, I loved it!

The way you can make personalities grow simply by misspelling a name. Dang, I'm envious.

Well, to be honest, I love writing a fan fic which features my vision of "realistic" combat. I added those philosophical insights as my own oppinions about combat, since there really is nothing glamorous or enticing about combat. Besides, you're bound to have conflicts if you have three neighbouring rival races stuck with each other for long periods of time (Redguards, Bretons and Nord).

What he said! A touch of philosophy never hurt anyone, besides it adds depth...and I love depth...Waaay to go Griffie!

Exactly what minque and jack said, little philosophical adages are always interesting to read. But just to forewarn you; don't get preachy. No one enjoys that stuff very often (which is making reading Terry Goodkind books a bit harder to read now).

Well, I'm actually a big fan of philosophy and all arguments concerning good and evil and what defines it, but I thought that not all people share my hobby. Anyway, I'm glad you liked it. Shows your smart people. And Mallet, what do you mean by preachy?


~~~
We had been riding for the part of a day now and Riverview still wasn't close by. Beomir kept reassuring us that we would reach Riverview soon, but I was sure that we were lost. Well, things could have been worse. For one thing we hadn't been attacked yet. Besides birds chirping and a few ferral horses grazing on the side of the road we met no living soul. Since boredom was setting in, I decided I was going to act.

"I'm going to scout out the road ahead, see if we're getting closer to Riverview." I said quickly as I rode off and left Beomir and Belwin alone.

"See if you find something to eat, I'm starving!" Beomir shouted as I galloped away. That was the last thing I worried about, keeping Beomir fed. At least Belwin wasn't complaining.

"Hm, Breton...don't those horses look tasty?" Beomir said after a short while. "How bout' you throw one of your spells and paralyze one of em'. We can eat off one of these horses for a whole day."

"I knew you Nords were peculiar but seriously, eating horses? Have we been reduced to Orcs or even Dark Elves?" Belwin said in a ridiculed voice.

"Touchy, touchy." Beomir said.

As I left the two behind to argue their culinary prefferences, I rode onwards. Nothing was to be seen, except the nearby vastness of the Alik'r to my right and a broken patchwork of gray hills and forests to my left. Excellent bandit country. We had not met anyone however and I expected it to stay as it was. Soon enough however my hopes were shattered. A sound came from further up the road. I urged my old horse, Whisper, to stop so I could listen more carefully. I could hear a powerful noise, as of thunder, coming towards me. I soon realized what was approaching. It was the thunder of hoofs. A company of riders was approaching.

I quickly dismounted and led my horse to a large group of bushes on the side of the road. As I stood the sound got louder and louder, until it seemed the horses were right on top of me. I held my sword at the ready, just in case the riders spotted me. The riders soon passed, and I looked carefully at them to see if they were friend or foe. I could see some of them wearing tabards over their armour, and tabards were something purely ceremonial, heraldic in nature. On the tabards was inscribed the symbol of a crimson sword above waves, one of the many symbols of the Forebears. As I counted, I could see at least thirty horsemen, well armed. By their direction of travel, it seemed they were going to Sentinel and coming from the direction of Rihad. If it was so, it was a bad sign. It meant that the king of Rihad was somewhat aware of the plots Lhotun was weaving to dethrone him. I had to move quickly.

I quickly grabbed the reins of Whisper and led him back on the road then started riding back to Belwin and Beomir. If the Forebears had questioned them, I hoped they didn't reveal who I was. As I was riding however, I was careless to look around my surroundings. I soon heard a shout. My horse abruptly stopped, frightened by the sudden noise. Typical of him to do so. As I looked around I could see I was being surrounded by the Forebears, weapons at the ready. Belwin and Beomir were with them as well.

"What do we have here? A spy of the Crowns I hope, for my blade has not bathed in Crown blood for a long time." the supposed leader of the Forebears said, as they surrounded me. Belwin and Beomir remained silent.

"Neither have I, ever since me and my men took Verkath back from the Crowns. I slew a great many Crowns...back then." I said, timidly trying to convince them I meant them no harm.

"If you took back Verkath from the Crowns...it must mean that you're from Sentinel! We are brothers then, for Sentinel has ever been the craddle of the Forebears! I suppose you've been to the 'Rusting-Crown' tavern haven't you? That's where most of us spend our time." the leader of the Forebears said.

"Oh, the 'Rusting-Crown'. I've been there before. The bartender is a heck of a guy!" I said with a forced smile. In reality I wasn't lying. Just that I was afraid what the Forebears would do when they saw what I did to their tavern.

"Oh, you mean Sterdecan. Aye. You should see him swing his axe. He makes Nords pale in comparisson." the Forebear leader said, receiving a glare from Beomir in the process.

"And from where do you hail, friends?" I asked, since curiosity and fear had overcome me.

"We come from Taneth to bring word to King Lhotun. We have been hearing that he has been intimidating our enclaves in Sentinel into joining a faction of his own making, and loyal to him. If this so-called king thinks he can push us Forebears around, he's got another thing coming. Besides, the Imperials are looking for any occasion to dethrone him. The only thing which could get in our way is the support he has from his people." the Forebear leader said, angrily. I was tempted to knock his head off with my scimitar but the temptation quickly faded. Knowing Lhotun, the Forebear envoy would probably be found floating down river to Taneth in barells or hacked up and bereft of their possesions in a ditch on the side of the road. Lhotun was quite inventive and I was curious to see what he would do with this envoy. Once I returned of course.

"And what of my companions, this Breton and this Nord." I asked.

"Odd company you have. Still, we are Forebears and we are open to new ideas and clever thinking. Not like those Crown scum, bogged down by their traditional doctrines. But enough talk, we must make haste to Sentinel. Farewell friend! May your blade always strike true against the crowns!" the Forebear leader said as he urged his men to continue the ride.

Feeling relieved to have safely eluded the Forebears, we continued on the road to Riverview. True to Beomir's words we soon arrived in the border-town, which was nestled between the kingdoms of Sentinel and Taneth. Taneth was another one of the Forebear cities, along with Rihad. They had challenged us in the past and I sensed that they would be our next target. Clavilla, the queen of Taneth, had tried to revoke the charther of all independent guilds in Sentinel on claims that the allowed worship of the Redguard god Satakal in our lands was heretical. The allowed worship of Satakal was one of the compromises Lhotun had to make to get the Crowns on his side. Being traditionalistic as they were, they wouldn't have it any other way.

We made our way through the streets of Riverview, looking for an inn to spend the night. Soon enough, we found one. It was named "Divad's Haven" and it was a big three-storied building which seemed clean from the outside. A great wooden door with a few holes in it greeted us as we entered. Most of the regulars threw one look at us then resumed their business, but one group looked at us intently as we made our way to the bar.

"Those fellows, they look like trouble." Beomir said, clearly speaking from experience.

"Do you know them?" I asked, cautiously.

"No. But I've seen enough of their kind to recognize them. Cutthroats by the look of it. They've seen you're wearing fancy armour so they must think you're rich. They'll try to ambush us and take all our belongings. Probably while we're sleeping." Beomir said, calmly.

"Sounds bad. My sword doesn't like it when it's woken up early." I said.

"You sleep with your sword?" Belwin asked, pretty ignorant of the fact that a lot of people wanted me dead.

"Don't we all?" I casually replied.

"I have an idea! Follow me outside." Beomir said as he left the inn. We all followed him.

Soon enough we were outside and waiting around. After a minute had passed, I wanted to ask Beomir why we were sitting around like idiots instead of renting a room. He just stood there, looking at the inn door. Soon enough however, I realized what he was waiting for. The men that had been staring at us left the inn, throwing one last look at us before leaving. Beomir turned to us after throwing one of them a fearsome look.

"Well, at least we have their attention." Beomir said.

"And that's a good thing?" Belwin asked with a somewhat worried voice.

"I didn't say that. Now listen carefully. I'll go after them, and they'll surely ambush me and try to make me tell them where our money is and what our most valuable possesions are." Beomir said, waving his hands about in an odd fashion as he spoke.

"And that helps us how?" I asked rather bluntly.

"Let me finish. Before I live, Belwin casts an invisibility spell on you and himself and you two will follow me. When they ambush me, we kill em'. Sounds like a plan?" Beomir asked rather plainly. He didn't really seem to realize he wasn't an outlaw free to kill people anymore. Still, at least his plan was simple and easy to put into practice.

"I understand you did this a lot in your 'former' days." Belwin said, rather sarcastically.

"Well, yes. Only that I was the one who did the ambushing, and my targets were the ones who did the dying. This time we'll turn the tables on them." Beomir said rather confidently.

"Well, let's get to it then. No point standing around with a bunch of guys who want to kill us. Lead the way, Beomir." I said.

"One last thing! Here." Beomir said as he handed over his axe to Belwin, who looked at it rather frightened. "I have a dagger so don't worry."

"Do you want me to...lop something with it?" Belwin asked rather anxiously.

"Not unless you want to. Just hold it for me. That way I'll look more vulnerable." Beomir said. Yeah, as vulnerable as a Nord can look without an axe strapped to his back. Belwin however seemed much more at ease when he heard he needn't use the axe.

As Belwin cast the invisibility spell, Beomir started going ahead. We soon followed. As he walked, Beomir went past one of the cutthroats, who soon started walking after him. As he went even further, the other three remaining cutthroats were all standing near the side of a building, seemingly talking with eachother. As soon as one saw Beomir however, they all started casually heading towards him. As soon as they had surrounded him, they drew their daggers and pointed them towards him. Beomir looked around trying to spot us.

"Well, well, what do we have here? New guys in town? You must know that all newcomers to Riverview have to give us something. A gift of sorts." the apparent leader of the cutthroats said.

Before he could continue, I drew my sword and the invisibility spell ended. As soon as I could notice that the spell had ended I already slashed one of the cutthroats by the back of the head, sending him down to the ground screaming in pain. Before the others could react, Beomir quickly drew out his dagger and grabbed the cutthroat which had talked to him, at the same time thrusting the dagger in his neck. He then quickly pulled the dagger out then pushed the wounded man into one of his companions, knocking both of them to the ground. As he stood, one of the cutthroats lunged at him to stab him in the back of the head. I quickly noticed however and slashed him across the belly with my scimitar as he ran towards Beomir.

Beomir turned towards me to thank me, and I could see that he had blood all over his clothes and on his face as well. That's what usually happened when you stabbed someone in the neck up close. Sweat from the tension had also mingled with the blood and a sticky liquid with a taint of iron had resulted. Before we could notice however, one of the cutthroats which Beomir had merely knocked down quickly rose from the ground and grabbed Beomir by the neck, dagger in hand. The cutthroat froze before he could stab Beomir however. He had been paralyzed by Belwin, which had been watching the fight petrified. It seemed he had never seen brutal killing up close. If he was to travel with me, it wouldn't be the last time either.

Beomir quickly hugged the Breton, thanking him in the name of several of his ancestors, which were more or less renowned in his family, as was the custom with Nords. I was then terribly amused by the sight of Belwin's disgust with all the blood stains Beomir had left on his fine robes.

"It happens in battle, friend. Quite a lot you'll discover. Now let's go back to the inn to get a room and get you cleaned up."

With that, we hurried back to the inn, before the town watch could realize what had happened. Hopefully when they would, the paralyzed cutthroat would take the blame for the murder of his friends.

~~~
That's it for this update.

Ah, cutthroats, will they ever learn?

Oh, and what I mean by preachy is that certain things get repeated very, very often, as if it were to subliminally try to convince you to try and change your way of living to that certain ideal. Basically you want to spread a specific way of life by being very forceful about it.

I don't think your work will provide that problem though.

A better safe than sorry attitude we have here. Fortunately, Beomir was right this time.

The next part, enjoy!

~~~
I woke up early the next morning, ready to continue the journey. We were staying in a big, circular wooden room with four beds and a table in the middle with a small assortment of food and drink on it, which you had to pay for if you drank any. I woke up and found, to my surprise, that the drinks were gone and so was most of the food. Beomir was also out of his bed already. Belwin was still sleeping rather uncomfortably. As he confessed, he never really got used to sleeping in a different bed each night, as he would have to while travelling. I woke up from my bed and washed my face with some water from a jug near my bed. That, at least, was free. The candles had all burnt out and a strange smell was in the air as well. As I passed Beomir's leather boots I could see the smell was obviously coming from them. Before I could put my armour back on, I was startled by Beomir who suddenly burst in the room.

"Get dressed quick, there's no time to linger lad!" Beomir said, panting.

"What's happened? More trouble?" I asked in an upset voice.

"I ran across a few friends of mine and I bought them a few drinks. Needless to say, that roused them quite a bit and made them want to have a lively discussion with the other patrons." Beomir said.

"What's wrong with that? Do they have colourful language or something?" I asked, rubbing some water off my face.

"No, just that what we Nords call 'lively discussion', the rest of Tamriel calls 'brawls'. The publican isn't happy about it, and neither will the town watch be once they come." Beomir said as he grabbed his things rather hastily.

"Well, at least I didn't plan to stay for morning breakfast. You wake Belwin while I get dressed properly." I said as I resumed getting dressed.

Since wearing armour all the time was rather uncomfortable, this time I decided to put my armour in a pack and wear common clothes. I also had a hooded cloak on my back, just in case it rained, though it was something uncommon in Hammerfell. As I got dressed, Beomir woke Belwin up by pouring some water on his face. He didn't like it and received it with a swear of course, but at least it managed to wake him up quickly. After telling him what had happened, Belwin quickly put on some of his travelling robes, since his finer ones had been stained by Beomir with a combination of blood and sweat.

We were then ready to leave. As I descended down the stairs I could see that Beomir wasn't exaggerating. The common rooms were badly damaged. A tangle of broken chairs and upturned tables lined the hall with puddles of ale and wine around them. I had to be careful not to step on the broken shards of glass and clay. Among the tables were also people who were unconscious, or too drunk to leave the inn when fighting broke out. I could also see the publican hiding behind the bar on the sight of Beomir coming down the stairs. I tossed him a purse full of drakes for his troubles and he nodded slightly, thanking me. Lhotun had given me enough drakes to cover my expenses. It seemed he had foreseen that Beomir would cause trouble.

As soon as we got our horses from the city stables we were already on our way to Rihad. On the way to Rihad we would also stop for the night in the city of Taneth, a major Redguard city-state which was comparable to Taneth. The ruler of Taneth was also rather outspoken against Lhotun. Almost all the rulers of Hammerfell were. They were all afraid of him however, and Lhotun found that acceptable. He always said that they could hate him as long as they feared him. I had also been recently hearing news from the Imperial Province. The Emperor was in ill health, just as Lhotun presumed. His hold on his Empire was growing weaker by the month, while the power of his generals kept growing. It had almost come to the situation where each legion was loyal solely to its own general. If we were lying on the edge of a storm, as Lhotun predicted, then it would all break out with the death of the Emperor. Hopefully, we Redguards of Sentinel could be powerful enough by then to hold our own lands and even break away from the Empire, becoming an independent state. To do that however, we would have to convince other major Hammerfellian city states to join us.

Politics aside, the road we were taking was now taking us through a lush savanna of tall grass and sparse trees. In this plain you could see all that moved for miles on end, ending with the foothills of the Dragontail Mountains to the North and the sea to the South. It was a beautiful panorama, one which I wasn't accustomed to. The usual sights which I saw on my travels throughout Hammerfell were either sandy deserts or rocky mountains with sparse vegetation to be seen. This was a welcomed change. As we rode, Belwin began a discussion about Orcs.

"So, you being adventurers and whatnot...have you even seen Orcs or any other simillar Beast Folk?" Belwin asked with a smile.

"I have seen quite a lot of Orcs during my days as an outlaw and hired blade. Most of my mates were Orcs. Damn fine warriors if Nords are not taken into consideration." Beomir said rather boastfully. How typical of a Nord to assume that they are the best warriors. This of course was an age-old argument. Who, out of Orcs, Nords and Redguards is the better warrior? It was rather impossible to answer objectively however.

"You seem to be forgetting us Redguards however, Beomir. Who vanquished the Orcs and Goblins from Hammerfell, if not the Redguards? Who forced the legendary forces of Tiber Septim to a stand-still and to sign a truce if not...the Redguards?" I asked, responding in kind to Beomir's boast.

"Well, you of course. But who defeated both the Redguards and the Bretons at once if not...the Nords?" Beomir asked, trying to give a suitable reply. I answered before pondering on his question.

"When have Nords ever defeated us?" I asked in an angry voice. My temper took the better of me.

"In the War of the Bend'r-mahk. It seems your history is getting pretty rusty Arthago. I will remind you that Dragonstar is still, to this very day, a territory of Skyrim." Beomir said with a large smile, a smile of pride. If Nords have one thing, it's their pride.

"I'll remind you that, despite the fact that you attacked us deceitfuly, by surprise, you only captured half of the city." I said trying to counter his argument.

"Well, you've had more than 20 years to recapture the Eastern Half of the city yet all you've done is build a wall to separate them, a wall that lasts to this very day." Beomir said, reinforcing his previous argument. He had a good point nonetheless.

"Well, you know your history Beomir, I'll give you that. Where did you find out so much about the War of the Bend'r-mahk? It's knowledge I would deem common of Belwin, but not of you." I said respectfully. Beomir was neither right nor wrong. As I said, one couldn't objectively prove who was better.

"Well, I said I was a hired blade. In my many duties as a mercenary, I once fought for a few months in Dragonstar and I can tell you that you Redguards have one hell of a fighting force. Even though I had pure-blooded Skyrim Nords in full battlegear on my side, we still barely held off your war parties whenever they infiltrated East Dragonstar. I can't tell you how many times I cursed your warriors, who always managed to ravage our supplies yet elude capture." Beomir said with admiration for Redguard fighting skills. Since I was fair to him, he was fair to me also.

"Hm, I've been in my share of battles and I can tell you, first hand, that killing a Redguard warrior hell-bent on tearing you limb from limb is one of the hardest things you can accomplish on a battlefield. I'm a Redguard myself but I can still tell you how damn hard it is. Personally, I wouldn't want to be in a battle for the rest of my life if I could have a choice in the matter. But you rarely do. Until then, I serve my master King Lhotun." I said, trailing off as I sometimes did.

"Well, I for one have never seen an Orc, nor fought and killed a Redguard on the field, though you make it sound like something rather hard. I'm not much of a combat mage you see? The College of Destruction has never been my preffered field. Still, I'd rather not have to meet an Orc or a Redguard in unpleasant circumstances." Belwin said, rather humbly and with a slight smile.

"Well, we all have our uses. What would we savage warriors be without a hand to guide us in our affairs? We would tear each other to pieces, that's what we would do!" Beomir said in a rather boisterous way, as was his style. I for one favoured the image of the intelligent fighter who didn't have much choice in the whims of his Lord. As was my case sadly.

As silence fell between us, I looked up to see if we were nearing Taneth. Much to my relief, the great city loomed ahead of us, like a foreboding guardian to the lands ahead. Taneth was indeed, one of the two main Forebear cities in Hammerfell. It wasn't my duty to interfere in the affairs of the Royal Court of Taneth however. For the time being, I was just a weary traveller wishing to spend a night in the imposing city. As we approached the gates, it reminded me of the first time I came to Sentinel. Alone, and somewhat frightened of what fate would hold for me. These gates were not as imposing as Sentinel's gates were back then, but they were still large. Made of iron with sculpted figures of kings and warriors long past, they rose before us.

"Who goes there? Name yourself and your business in the lands of Clavilla, Queen of Taneth!" a voice boomed from the battlements. A guard most probably. I was quick to answer.

"Vilamon, Knight-Errant!" I shouted back with all my strength. My shout was followed by a few moments of silence.

"Pay the tax of 30 drakes and you will be granted entrance into the city!" the guard shouted back. I turned to Beomir and Belwin and gave them a quick nod, telling them that I'd pay for them.

"You have my word as a knight! Open the gates!" I shouted. It felt good, actually pretending to be a knight. The actual noble type, not the backstabbing, spying knight that I was often forced to be.

The gates then opened with a slow crank. It felt as if they had not been opened for ages, yet that was just the sound of old gears cranking. The gates opened to reveal a sprawling city, crowded with people going about their daily activities and guards mingling about, wearing the coat of arms of Queen Clavilla. As soon as we passed the gates we were met by a guard which asked us for the required tax to enter the city. I quietly gave him a pouch of gold then we rode on to the stables where we left our horses. As soon as we dismounted and I flipped the stable boy a drake, I turned to Beomir and Belwin.

"We do it quietly this time, alright? This is a big city and we can't afford the extra attention." I said, particularly looking at Beomir. With a sigh of annoyance he agreed. Belwin nodded shortly.

We were then off to find an inn. Somewhere quiet where you could blend easily prefferably. And deffinitely not a place frequented by any of Beomir's former "companions", friendly or otherwise.

~~~
That's it. Comments are appreciated.

Ah Beomir, he's quite the character. His antics are enjoying to read. Plus I look forward to seeing how this group infiltrates Clavilla's court. Keep it up!

Arthago is on his way to Rihad, not to Taneth. Taneth is just a place to stop by and rest on the way to Rihad. It is a big and important city, but Arthago's objectives are related to Rihad, not Taneth.

Pay more attention Mallet, I had higher expectations from you.

Right, right. Gimme a break, I read your update at like 3 in the morning after 8 hours of work. My mind might've been a bit slow by then

A who is the best warrior guy discussion. Man, people can talk about that forever.

Oh, and I agree with Arthago. No lively discussions please.

Do not worry Mallet, you are forgiven. Oh, one thing I was always willing to ask you, who is Simion Mandrake and what has he got to with Bloodlust? Just curious because I see these names being thrown quite a lot around the forums. Why couldn't people mention Arthago and the Adventures instead?

~~~
Right from the start I could notice that Taneth was a rather odd city. Since my mission was largely concerned with Rihad I had received little intelligence about Taneth. I already knew that its leader was a pro-Imperial woman named Clavilla and that it was a Forebear-aligned city. I was surprised to see how Imperialized Taneth had become. In the crowds mingling through the main street I could see just as much Imperials as I could see Redguards. There was a main street which ran until it reached Clavilla's castle, and that main street also contained Taneth's bazaar. Around the main street sprang small alleys which led off to houses and smaller shops, alleys to small for three man to stand abreast. Next to the buildings were also wooden scaffoldings on which workers laboured to renovate the traditional light-brown sand-swept hues of the buildings to a more conventional colour. The scaffoldings started from the alleys and worked their way up, giving the city a strange appearance.

Since I only wanted to spend the night in Taneth, I made my way to the nearest Redguard I could see to ask about a cheap, low-profile inn where I could stay. Amid the crowd I could see a middle-aged Redguard with a grizzled beard standing about, as if waiting for someone. I approached him.

"Greetings. Excuse me but would you mind if you..." I was interrupted by the man before I could finish my sentence.

"That necklace...hide it!" he whispered as he looked another way. He was obviously pretending not to talk to me, though I couldn't understand why. I then looked down at my necklace. It was an old necklace which I carried around ever since I left Vulnim Gate for the first time. It was a gift I received one day from my mother, which said she had received it from her mother while she was a girl. It had a small ivory medallion which symbolized some old Yoku god.

"My necklace? Why?" I asked, looking in the other way as well, not wanting to attract unwanted attention. That was the last thing I needed.

"The guards...they'll take it from you and toss you in the Royal dungeons just for wearing such 'blasphemy'. Take it off, quick!" the man whispered once more as he kept looking around. I decided to do as he said, not wanting to draw unwanted attention from the guards.

"That's better, a lot better. You will find that it's not good to be caught wearing anything which is traditionally Yoku in Taneth. Or doing anything traditionally Yoku. Or speaking Yoku for the matter." the man said in a nervous way, finally looking at me.

"But why? What's happened? Why are there so many Imperials here?" I asked, rather confused.

"It's the Queen you see. But I can't say any more. Farewell." He said as he quickly left, grabbing my hand and putting a small note in it before leaving.

I quickly took out the note and read it carefully.

Queen Clavilla has banned everything which has something traditionally Yoku related to it, and is trying to destroy our traditional Redguard culture, imposing the Imperials and their Nine Divines over our traditional Yoku gods. If you want to be part of the solution, seek us out at the "Serpent's Coil" inn in the Lower quarters. Ask for Jon.

Signed,
the Fellowship of Taneth

That explained everything. I knew Clavilla was a supporter of Imperial culture and mannerism, but not quite that much. It seemed my intelligence was outdated. It wasn't really any of my concern and my main objective was reaching Rihad, but it wouldn't hurt hurting Sentinel's political adversaries and gaining a few allies in Taneth while I was at it. I quickly folded the note and put it in my pockets, afterwards turning to Beomir and Belwin.

"Alright men, change of plans. We're gonna wreak a little havok while we're staying here. Follow me." I said, as I started walking in a general direction.

What was written in the note also explained all the scaffoldings and the workers working to renovate the traditional Redguard buildings. They were clearly trying to Imperialize the city to Clavilla's standards. It also explained the presence of Imperial legionnaires inside the city, serving as guards along with some Redguard guards. If I would want to learn more however I would have to make my way to the "Serpent's Coil" inn. In order to do that, I would have to ask someone for directions. Seeing a Redguard in front of me who seemed to be knowledgeable of the city, I approached him.

"Excuse me, do you happen to know where I could find the 'Serpent's Coil' inn?" I asked in a rather polite way. The Redguard turned and looked me over, head to toe, probably to see if I was wearing anything which was Yoku in style.

"Take the first alley to the left and keep going until you reach an opening in the alleys. You'll find a few shacks and a somewhat larger stone building there which has a sign with a snake coiling. That's the inn you're looking for. Watch out though, it's in the Lower Quarters and that's a rather...agitated part of town." the Redguard said calmly, slowing down when he finished his sentence. I thanked him and was off.

The journey through the winding alleyway the Redguard sent me through wasn't as easy as I expected. These back-alleys were more dirty and crowded than the ones I experienced in Sentinel. There were also various shady types about, which more than unnerved Belwin. Beomir however seemed to be right at home. I could see however what the Redguard meant by agitated. There were many poor people and street urchins lying about and begging. There were also some groups of poor people which were rather more "practical" about it when it came to getting money from passers-by. They tried to avoid us however seeing as we were three well-armed travellers which stayed together.

Because of the scaffoldings which were strewn all about the city the alleys were rather dark, and it made seeing more in front of you hard, especially when people hung their dirty laundry right on the street. The spaces between the cobblestones which made up the ground we were walking on was also filled with filth and dirty water. It was something you could feel with your boots while walking on it rather than smell it. That was not to say that the smell wasn't very strong though. Along the way I could also see posters hung on the walls with the Empire's banner and the saying "The Imperials are our brothers" written beneath it. There were also some posters which were vandalized or ripped from the wall entirely.

After what seemed like an eternity of trudging about the same identical alleys we finally found the "Serpent's Coil" inn. It was a somewhat large stone building when compared with the wooden shacks all around it. As the Redguard had described it, it was in a clearing between several larger buildings, seemingly at an intersection between alleys. We approached the door.

As we entered we could hear traditional Redguard music being sung from a band of musicians. We were welcomed with the sight of a large, rectangular common room which was dark even though there were candles on all the tables which provided an odd sense of darkness. It provided just enough light so you could see the person standing with you at a table, and just enough darkness so you couldn't properly see the other tables. Between the odd assortment of Redguards of all ages there were also a few large figures standing at a table and drinking ale by the flagon. As we passed by their table we could see they were Orcs. One of them gave Beomir a glare as he passed. As soon as we reached the bar, I started talking with the publican.

"Good evening. I'm looking for Jon." I said, trying to be quiet enough as not to be heard by others yet loud enough to be heard over the music.

"I understand. Follow me." the publican said as he appointed another bartender to take his place.

We followed the publican through a door behind the bar which led to a smaller private room used to store drinks. There were a lot of wine racks in the room and a table in the middle, a table at which there sat several people, including the Redguard I had met in the main street of the city, the one which gave me the note.

"I'll leave you to your business. I'll call if there's any trouble." the publican said as he went back to his duties. I stood for a while while they all looked at me.

"Why don't you take a seat, m'boy?" the eldest of them asked in a rather gruff voice.

"We hope you weren't followed. That's a big problem these days, getting our members arrested because they're caught illegally possessing Yoku things, or because they're fraternizing with 'heretics'." The man who gave me the note said as a follow-up. I took a seat as they said. So did Beomir and Belwin, rather hesitantly. "I'm Jon by the way. The old one's Bodean. There are others but that's all you should know for the moment."

"I understand. So what are you exactly? A revolutionary movement?" I asked rather curiously.

"Of sorts." Bodean answered shortly.

"To give you the longer story, Queen Clavilla wasn't actually a bad sort when she first came to power. The old Emperor down in Cyrodiil deposed the former king of Taneth for reasons we commoners don't know, and instated his Imperial-grown niece on the throne afterwards. Before the Queen came to power, things in Taneth were down-right miserable. You had to pay rent to the King for almost everything you owned, and that rent was multiplied per person, so unless you were rich you couldn't afford more than a shack unless you dodged taxes and rent all-together. After the Queen came to the throne she repealed the rent law for the poor citizens, making it bearable to have more than a shack again." Jon said, speaking about the times before Clavilla's reign.

"Things were good and all during that period. Trade started growing again, more ships started coming to the harbour, more houses being built and more jobs to go around. The legion and the Orcs also came about by then." Bodean said, rather coldly.

"Orcs? We met a group of them right in this inn. They gave us a rather nasty look and didn't seem pleased to see us." Belwin said, interrupting.

"Aye. Orc mercenaries hired by Clavilla as her personal police-force. Since Taneth never really had a standing army after the Camoran Usurper attacked Hammerfell, the Queen decided to do something about it so she hired all these Orcs. A rather boisterous bunch, though they have skill when it comes to battle. They don't seem to get on well with the street gangs formed in the period when the city was poorer and the rent laws were still in effect. When they're not on duty they loiter about in taverns and inns, getting drunk and filling their bellies." Jon said.

"An undisciplined band of drunken louts if you ask me." Bodean said in a mocking way. It was clear he despised the Orcs.

"If the people of Taneth dislike the Legionnaires stationed here, they certainly hate the Orcs under the Queen's service. Anyway, to carry on with the story, things were all fine and good until the Orcs and the Legion came in increasing ammounts. Then the Queen started her cultural 'war' so to say. She started banning anything which was un-Cyrodiilic, stating that the only things which were proper were Imperial. People tolerated it for a while, until she banned all worship of the traditional Yoku gods and branded all of the priests as heretics, throwing them in the dungeons. Now formal worship of Yoku gods is forbidden and the only gods which are not heretical are the Nine Divines." Jon said, being interrupted by Bodean once more.

"During the bad times people found a refuge in worshipping the Yoku gods like Satakal. It was all they had really. Things have been like this ever since we Redguards came to Hammerfell! Now this Queen tries to take it away from us, calling our religion a heresy and our holymen shamans! It cannot be borne!" Bodean said, almost shouting.

"Bodean can be rather extreme at times, but he is right. Things have gone on long enough. It's time the people fought back, and what better voice of the people than us?" Jon asked, rhetorically.

"Will you join us lad? Will you help Taneth and its people regain their former freedom?" Bodean asked. I stood for a while as if pondering the decision. Of course I wanted to destabilize Clavilla's rule and reinforce the point of view that Lhotun is the one who will save Taneth.

"Of course I will. What nobler cause is there than the freedom of the people? When do we start?" I asked, rather boldly. I almost told them that it shouldn't take more than a few days since I had another kingdom to destabilize in Rihad.

Me and my "noble" pursuits...

~~~
Comments are welcome!

Well to answer your question Griff, Simion Mandrake is one of my characters in Bloodlust. He's sort of a victim of circumstance and a pivotal character in my story. I should really continue it too, it's been awile since I made an update but that's because I don't have my old job anymore and that's when I did most of my writing.

As for this update: awesome! I have a feeling Arthago might be a bit too bold thinking that it'll be simple to overthrow Clavilla though. If she has Imperials on her side (plus Orc mercs) they could possibly prove to be a formidable opponent. The time factor to also get this done could also prove to be a challenge. The possible chance of a hasty solution could prove to be their undoing. We shall see I guess!

What Mallet said. I just love how Arthago treats this as a small sidejob. 'Just cause I was in the neighbourhood anway'.

Just thought I'd say that someday, I hope to get around to reading this story. Since it is already in Chapter III, it looks like I have a lot of catching up to do.

You will have quite some catching up to do Planty. I myself re-read every chapter before resuming the story so I could properly know what Arthago has been doing and have intimate knowledge of past events. Re-reading all the story only took me 3-4 hours so it shouldn't be that hard. Oh, and Jack, you're making me jealous! Your replies to Redrock's "The Last Heir" are gigantic compared to your replies to my story. I must say that he is a rather good writer, and he's new so he deserves helping but still. Anyway, to resume...

~~~
As we stood in the crowded back-room we began making plans. It would be hard, but I had learned a thing or two while being around Lhotun. First thing to do was to properly ruin your political opponent's reputation. Spread nasty rumours about him, slander him, do anything it takes to make him look like a fool in the eyes of the people. Second thing was to take away said opponent's support, whatever that may be. In my case, this support was the Orcs and the Legion. The Legion in itself was too big of a target to take down but the Orcs could be handled. Third of all, and this was something which Lhotun was a very big fan of, take out your opponent proper. Since I was merely passing by and didn't have too many resources I wasn't going to even attempt to assassinate Clavilla. For now, I would have to settle with merely slandering her in front of her own people and instilling a revolutionary attitude in Taneth.

"Well, first of all, have any strange thing been going on in town?" I asked, sparking the discussion. Bodean and Jon seemed to think for a few moments before finally replying.

"If you mean something which might be of concer to Clavilla, and to us, the wife of the Captain of the Guard has recently dissapeared in mysterious circumstances. The Captain of the Guard is also, coincidentally, an Imperial." Jon said.

"Hm, we might use that to our advantage. If we could somehow prove to the populace of Taneth that the Captain murdered his wife we could show everyone how 'noble' and 'civilised' Imperials really are. When was his wife last seen?" I asked.

"After a particularly nasty argument she was saying that she wanted to leave the city. No one has seen her since." Bodean said, in between a few gulps of ale.

"Did she actually leave the city?" Beomir asked.

"I think so, why?" Jon asked in a rather confused voice. I was slightly confused as well, not knowing what Beomir was referring to.

"If so, I might contact a few of my former friends which have a...let's say knack for finding lost things, bodies included. They might be able to find the Captain's wife, if she is truly dead." Beomir said. We all looked at him in a rather impressed way seeing as none of us had really thought of that option.

"And if we don't find her?" Jon asked, rather anxiously.

"Find the body of a woman and pass it off as the Captain's wife, though it might be harder if we were to do so. If we're lucky however, we won't need to do this." I said, as the others looked at me in a rather disgusted way. Being around Lhotun showed.

"Let's hope we won't need to do that." Belwin said, finally breaking the silence.

"Well, after we handle the Captain of the Guard then what?" Jon asked.

"After we ruin the reputation of her allies, we slander Clavilla herself. I've seen several propaganda posters around town. I'm sure we could do something better than that. Make a leaflet and pass it around. Make sure the leaflet properly slanders Clavilla and her odd ways. I'm sure we can think of something. It's not that hard to make preposterous claims, it's hard making people believe in them. If we can prove that the Captain murdered his wife, our slanderous claims can appear much more believable." I said, weaving a plan.

"Great. That only leaves the Orcs." Bodean said, putting particular accent on the word 'Orcs'.

"Well, they are a harder nut to crack. I can't really think of any way to take them out easily." I said with a rather concerned voice. Orcs may have appeared like dumb creatures but they were cunning and tenacious, if somewhat savage and headstrong. That was what made them the most sought-after mercenaries around.

"I think I know how to take care of them." Beomir said in a sly voice. After he said that he started thinking heavily. Nobody said a word, leaving him to think over is words. "You did say that the Orcs had a conflict with the street gangs, didn't you?"

"Yes. What of it?" Jon asked, curiously.

"We could use that conflict to our advantage and take out both the Orcs and the Legionnaires helping Clavilla." Beomir said with a grin. "One of you should go to the Legion's headquarters and give the leader of the Legionnaires an anonymous tip concerning a gathering of the street gangs. A little while after that, another one of you should go to the Orcs telling them that a street gang would be splitting the loot from a profitable heist and that the Legion is already going for it. Knowing Orcs are greedy as hell, they would rush to the place to get there before the Legion does. They get to the place and find it barren besides the Legionnaires, which have been already tipped off."

"And they find each other then stand around, how does that help us?" Bodean interrupted rather rudely. With a glare, Beomir replied.

"Let me finish! Before we tip off either the Legion or the Orcs, one of us goes to the street gangs and tells them that both the Orcs and a number of Leggionaires will be gathered at a certain place at a certain time, looking for loot that isn't there. That would be the perfect opportunity to spring an ambush and kill them all. Since they would be caught by surprise, the Orcs and the Legionnaires would all be killed. Trust me, I've done this before. It's sure to work." Beomir said, ending with a large grin.

"Hm...brilliant plan, except for one thing. How do we get the street gangs to cooperate?" Jon asked.

"You did say that the Orcs and the gangs hate each other don't you? What better way to make them cooperate than giving them the opportunity to completely elliminate the opposing side?" Beomir asked.

"You've surprised me yet again Beomir. I now see why Lhotun hired you for this job." I said with a smile. Beomir had, thus far, proved very useful. Belwin on the other hand hadn't been of much use. I didn't loose faith in him however.

"Well...I have my uses." Beomir replied after drinking some mead from a pewter tankard.

"Now that we have made our plan, I must tell you one more thing, my friends." I said, preparing to reveal to Jon and Bodean who was behind my appearance in Taneth.

"And what may that be, Vilamon?" Jon asked in a curious voice. At the same time, Bodean was looking at me suspiciously while trying to grab a dagger he was obviously hiding in his boot.

"There is no reason to prepare your dagger Bodean, though you may hold it if it makes you feel better. My name isn't really Vilamon. I'm neither a knight-errant, though I am a knight. My name is Arthago, and I hail from the city and kingdom of Sentinel. I am on a mission for my king, King Lhotun son of Camaron. Know that if my plans have any success it is all because of the training and counsel I have received from His Majesty. Know also that he wishes what is best for both Taneth and its people. In due time, I am sure he will rid you of Queen Clavilla." I said, in a rather fanciful speech which I didn't use that often.

"Hm, our friend reveals himself. I was pretty suspicious of the Knight-Errant bit in the first place. I wondered why a supposedly chivalrous knight would use such lowly, dishonourable methods. If these methods have been taught to you by King Lhotun himself I despair to think such a man may one day rule all of Hammerfell." Jon said in a rather disgusted way. It seemed he wasn't a fan of Lhotun's methods. Fair enough, neither was I. I had grown in wisdom in the last years. In other days, I would have simply drawn my blade and beheaded the man for slandering Lhotun's name.

"Leave the man alone Jon. He does what is necessary to maintain his position. It is a cruel world we live in, not the honourable world of your dreams. If you have been taught by King Lhotun himself, I am honoured to be working with you, Sir Arthago." Bodean said in his usual rough voice. This was a surprise. A realist who had no qualm with Lhotun's methods. I was nothing short of amazed.

"Well, now that that's settled I think we should all get a good night's sleep since we have a hard day ahead of us. Revolutionaries like us always do." I said, ending my sentence with a yawn. I was getting tired.

"I've already talked with the publican. Your rooms are upstairs, second and third doors on the right. Be gentle with the furniture." Jon said as he rose from the table.

As everyone left the table, we made our way to our rooms. I was in a somewhat larger room with two beds, while the other room was a smaller one with only a single bed. Knowing Beomir and Belwin didn't quite get along, and that Beomir was prone to getting into trouble, I decided to stay in the room with Belwin. Beomir would have to sleep...and do whatever might come through his odd mind alone. As Beomir took off his robes he put on some pants and a shirt which he used to sleep in. I took off my cape then hung it on a hook near the door. I also hung my scabbard on the same hook. I kept my scimitar next to me, just in case. Belwin gave me an odd look the whole time.

"Why do you keep your sword near you at all times?" Belwin asked, rather curiously.

"I've attracted the attention of some dangerous people during my time in the service of King Lhotun." I said, rather plainly.

"Hm, why you warriors must always have someone to boss you around I'll never understand. Being a mage is much more flexible. People generally leave you alone in some places where mages are considered something ocult, and people treat you with respect and don't start giving you menial tasks in places where mages are properly treated." Belwin said, rather annoyed. He was right however.

"I'm not really sure. I for one have always favoured the notion of the intelligent fighter, and I consider myself as such. For that matter, in the past months I've done nothing a common thug or hired blade would. I've not fought a single battle with anyone, and my blade is almost crying because of it. Most of the time I've been more of an agent to my Lord than anything." I said.

"Well, you are right. You showed your apptitude for leadership and for politics in the discussion with Jon and his friend, I believe it was Bodean, wasn't it? Anyway, not many have such an intimate knowledge of the 'dark' side of politics as you do Arthago. That shows you are quite intelligent." Belwin said with a knowing smile.

"What do you mean by the 'dark' side of politics?" I asked, pretending not to know what he meant. I of course knew that he meant my skill with political subterfuge, but I just liked asking about the obvious.

"Well, let's just say that I'm no stranger of clandestine politics myself. I didn't spend my time in Anticlere peddling potions and learning minor spellcraft you know? The Lord of Anticlere, Lord Auberon Flyte was quite a cunning one. He liked to utilise this type of tactics as well. Enough about my more than shady past however. We should rest since, like you said, we have a hard day ahead of us." Belwin said as he closed his eyes.

"Alright then. Good night Belwin." I said as I did the same. After pondering the plan a bit in my head I soon fell to sleep. It was a long and hard ride all the way to Taneth, and the journey had taken its toll on me. It wasn't even close to finishing however. If the gods were with us, and luck was also on our side, we would be out of Taneth by the third day.

~~~
That's it for this rather short update. I was in a hurry when I wrote it so I hope you can understand.

Ok, I surrender! You want a longer reply? Then you get one.

First of all, I must say that I like the new Arthago. He now realizes that what he does isn’t what most people call good and noble. But at the same time, he realizes that the threat of a collapsing Empire is quite real and that Lhotun just happens to be a good chance for Hammerfell’s survival despite his harsh ways. He’s now of the opinion that the ends justify the means and I like that.

Also, the political plotting is pretty neat. If I were to write this bit, I would probably have gone right for the ‘assassination’ idea no matter what because I’m just that simple. Arthago thought about it, but realized that the preparation for that would simply take too long. He only has time to sow the seeds, not to reap the harvest.

We also learn that Beomir has more brains than he would make us believe at first. The thing with the captain’s wife and then the Orcs/legionaires/streetgangs was quite ingenious, even though a bit brutal.

Belwyn gets a slight character development, but I can see that his time has not yet come. Though it surprises me that he behaved so disgusted at the blood earlier and now casually mentions he has a shadier past under a ruthless leader. But maybe he was more of a behind the scenes guy rather than up front actiontaker.

So all in all, it was a good update again. Oh, and I guess I would really appreciate it if you replied to one or two of my stories. I’d suggest for you to start with Oasis 2. Not only are you more familiar with Luper than with Rajn and co, but it is also the shorter of the two. Corrupted Heart is much longer and has just begun its second thread in fact.

Wow! This post has made me feel much more accomplished as a writer than most other posts! Thank you very much Jack. You did reveal to me however that I made Belwin sound rather unrealistically earlier, what with the bit where he was disgusted by blood but then you also saved me by saying it may have been intentional. The flaws of my writing method now show. I think it's clear to see that I improvise almost everything as I go along, having only a certain set objective in mind. That's one flaw I'm trying to mend.

And regarding reading other stories, I haven't read any other story for quite some time except the Last Heir and a little bit of Saga of Vvardenfel. I will get around to reading yours though. What exactly is Oasis 2 about? (Except the adventures of Luper Alkad)

Oasis 2 is...how should I put this?

Well basically it began as your good old Tribunal fanfic, with the big difference that Luper wasn't trying to find out about the Dark Brotherhood when he came to Mournhold, he was trying to escape them! So Luper hitched a ride on an airship with a new friend and all seemed to be going well till crap hit the fan and Luper really got sidetracked while the friend landed in jail.

Right now, the backdrop is this really big war between the Empire and Morrowind, with Luper trying to find answers by working as a spy on the Morrowind side. In fact, Helseth and the Dark Brotherhood or Almalexia aren't even on his list as problems right now. Well, Almalexia is, but not because she's a psychopathic murderer.

Yeah, this doesn't explain much. I say you should just read it. The plot is kinda jumpy I'm afraid.


Corrupted Heart is an Arena fanfic, only extra spicy.

I'm finally all caught up, and I'm glad that I took the time. I appreciate the complexity and depth of character shown by Arthago, although the plot is a little more bloodthirsty than I might think ideal. Still, it works quite well for this story, so keep it up.

Solid update as usual. Jack basically touched on everything I could've possibly mentioned so he gets the credit due to commenting first.

I look forward to seeing whether or not Arthago and Beomir's plans go well.

Here's the next part of Arthago's tale. Enjoy!

~~~
As I stood lazily in my bed I could see Belwin going about the room looking for something. It was still early morning and I didn't have it in my mind to get up yet. I was always somewhat lazy when it came to getting up early. When I was a child and my father was training me to become a knight, he always relished in waking me up early by pouring cold water on me. It always got me up from bed and instantly ready to change my clothes. After the morning training session which involved fighting with both a blade and a mace, with or without a shield, for extended periods of time, I would have to learn something about Tamriel's history. My father always said that a knight not versed in lore would be like a bard which couldn't sing. I never disagreed with him and, lo and behold, his training got me far. Very far. Being a Marshal in one of the most important knightly orders of the Iliac Bay was something to respect. Returning to the present, Belwin approached me once he found what he was looking for.

"Come on Arthago. It's time to wake up. Beomir just came and said he was going to meet his contacts. Bodean and Jon are also waiting downstairs." Belwin said rather eagerly as he opened the door and left the inn room.

I quickly got up and slipped into my traveling clothes, carefully strapping the scabbard of my scimitar to my belt. I made sure that my armour was well protected in a locked chest before leaving the room. As I got down to the common-room I saw Belwin sitting at a table together with Bodean and Jon. The inn was practically empty besides a few of the occupants which were having breakfast. An odd silence was about, when compared to last night's commotion. The band of singers was also gone. I went to the table where my three companions were sitting and took a free seat. From the empty seat which had a half-empty plate of food on it and the empty mug next to it, I could predict that Beomir had also had a hasty breakfast before leaving to meet his contacts.

"Good to see you're awake Arthago." Jon said in a neutral voice. "I hope you had a good night's sleep."

"How can you sleep well at night when you know this witch of a queen hounds you on the street with her guards?" Bodean said in a rather upset voice. This man seemed to be annoyed all the time.

"Well, today we put our plan into action. I think we should start discussing who to send to all the organizations we have to talk to." I said, initiating the discussion about the plan. I was in a hurry so no point not to be frank about it.

"I will go to the Imperial Legion." Belwin said rather boldly. Jon and Bodean looked at him in an odd way since he had spoken before they had.

"Well, I agree. Sending someone who is a Redguard might prove a bit suspicious. Someone neutral, like a Breton, would be more suited for the job. You could also use a few subtle charms to make them more appreciative of your suggestions, Belwin." I said. Jon and Bodean both nodded.

"I'm glad I have your trust. When should I leave? And most importantly, where must I go?" Belwin asked, looking towards Jon.

"We should wait for Beomir to come back from the woods nearby and see what's the status on the Imperial Captain's dissapeared wife. After he comes back, and we discuss how we should start spreading rumours about the Guard Captain, you should wait for nightfall before leaving. That way, if the street gangs really are to ambush the Orcs and the Legion, they can do so under the cover of night." Jon said in a rather brisk fashion. "You can find the headquarters of the Legion near Clavilla's castle, in the Upper Quarters which are in the north of town. Generally look for cleaner streets with less people on them and they'll lead you to the Upper Quarters. Nobody except nobles and rich merchants live there, so there shouldn't be any problems."

"Now that that's sorted out, we should talk about who is going to talk to the street gangs and the Orcs. I think that Beomir fellow should talk to the Orcs. They seem to have much in common." Bodean said in a rather grim way.

"Something you have against him?" I casually asked while leaning back in my chair.

"I, for one, think these Nords are no better than the Orcs. Bloodthirsty killers the whole lot of em'. In such times however, one must do whatever he can to sustain himself, even if it means associating with Nords or Orcs. So be it however." Bodean said with a rather cruel smirk.

"Well, I agree with sending Beomir to speak with the Orcs, since a Redguard would make them suspicious as well, but that still leaves the street gangs. Who is to go and convince them to actually ambush the Orcs and the Imperials?" I asked in a rather unconfident way. I wasn't really sure who would be fit to go to the street gangs.

"Hm, I don't think I would be well suited to going. I've had some scuffles with their members in the past. Scum, through and through. It's hard to see how they could be convinced, except by way of bribes." Bodean said in a rather pessimistic way. I had money given to me for bribes and other expenses, but it was for use in Rihad, not in Taneth. For now, good old persuasion would have to do. Since Jon seemed just as hesitant as Bodean to volunteer, it seemed that I would have to be the one to negotiate with the street gangs.

"Since you two don't seem to anxious to volunteer, I'll do the 'honours'. Besides, I've done my share of negotiations in the past, how hard could these thugs be to convince?" I asked as I stood up from the table. The others all looked at me with doubtful eyes, especially Jon.

"They can be rather stubborn." Bodean said in a bored way. "Nothing you can't handle though, from the looks of you."

"There have been some rumours however." Jon added in a rather frightened way. He seemed to fear for my safety.

"What rumours?" I asked in a concerned voice.

"Well, I did say that the street gangs were in a conflict with the Orcish mercenaries. This conflict hasn't been just a verbal one; it has also been a very physical one. Lone Orcs have been attacked and killed on the streets late at night. One time they even tried attacking an Orc patrol but the Orcs managed to escape after leaving a few of the thugs in a pool of their own blood. They have some skill with easily concealable weapons, especially daggers." Jon said in a worried way.

"Bah, I once got into a knife-fight with one of em' thugs and he barely got away with his life. Even my mother has more skill with blades, and she's 50!" Bodean said in a rather boastful way. From the start I seriously doubted his claims.

"That thug would have been the last one standing if he hadn't been dead-drunk by the time you got into an argument with him. Drunk as he was he could barely stand, let alone swing a knife around. He did leave some scars on you though." Jon said in an almost mocking way, which managed to anger Bodean.

"Well, he was a little drunk. Well, more than a little drunk. But still, he was pathetic! He barely managed to leave a few small cuts on my arm and an awkwardly aimed stab at my leg. I would have beaten the living daylights out of him even if he was sober!" Bodean said, almost shouting. If I didn't know better I would have said he was drunk.

"Anyway, boasts aside, where can I actually find these guys?" I asked.

"Well, pretty much on any side-street in the Lower Quarters. I know of one tavern near here which is owned by a man rumoured to have dealings with the street gangs. You can start from there. The tavern's name is the 'Least Liked Hound' and the owner is a man named Dak." Jon said, summing up where I could find members of the street gangs.

"Very well then, best not to tarry, since time is of the essence. Let's hope that until I'm back, Beomir will return as well." I said as I rose from the table and left.

"If you come back, that is." Bodean added with a grim smirk. Belwin looked at the man in a rather annoyed way after he said those words. I didn't pay any attention though and left the inn.

As soon as I opened the door I was back, out and about around Taneth. The small clearing in the shacks in which the "Serpent's Coil" was located seemed an open meadow in a forest of dark buildings now with the coming of day. Since it was still rather early most of the people in town were still asleep. I found a beggar nearby however whom I asked for directions. He was wearing some torn up pants and was sitting all huddled up in a corner. He smiled as I approached him, a very opportunistic smile however. If he had a weapon on him he'd surely hit me over the head and steal everything I had. Thankfully, he didn't.

"Greetings. Could you tell me where the 'Least Liked Hound' inn is?" I asked in a rather wary way. Knowing he was a beggar he would probably ask me for something.

"Some food for my kids might refresh my memory sir. We've been starvin' since the Queen locked up my brother for being a priest of Satakal." the beggar said, trying to put on an act of being pitiful. I quickly threw him 2 Septims. His face lightened up as he gathered them up from the ground.

"Up that alley-way, second turn to the left. Thanks kind sir!" the beggar said as he began counting how many coins he had gathered. He opened a pouch which revealed a lot of coins of various sizes. He did so carefully so that nobody could see him, but I could get a glimpse of his money by turning my head quickly when he wasn't looking in my direction. Lucky beggar.

The tavern was pretty easy to find, being situated near the "Serpent's Coil". Right near the entrance were a few shady types who appeared to be standing guard. They gave me an odd look as I approached, one of them entering the inn before me. I had to be on my feet, unless I wanted to wake up with a dagger at my throat and a palm on my mouth. I carefully approached the door, pretending not to pay the Redguards who were standing about any attention. After a few tense moments they stopped looking at me and carried on discussing something of importance to them. I entered the tavern, somewhat calmer. It was all but empty, except a few people standing about at some tables and talking. The tables were old and decrepit, one good kick could have splintered one entirely. So were the chairs. Suspicious eyes all targeted me as I approached the bar. The publican didn't seem to be paying any attention to it though. He was idly cleaning some glasses.

"Greetings." I said with an awkward smile as I approached him. "I'm looking for Dak."

"Speaking." Dak said in a bored fashion.

"Um...I came here about...how should I say this?" I said in a pretty nervous way. I was unsure how to ask him about the street gangs.

"Do you owe me money? If not, scram. Or, sit down and have a drink. Either option is fine with me." Dak said in the same tone. At least he was straighforward about it.

"Well, I don't exactly owe you any money, but I have a very interesting proposition for your business partners, and for your fine self." I said, trying to make him curious. He looked at me with dull eyes.

"If you're another member of the Guard trying to make my tavern appear as an unlawful venue, you can take your offer and shove it right up your backside, Redguard." he said in an agressive tone. It seemed my message didn't have the meaning I was intending.

"I'm no member of the Guard, but it will be your loss to consider me one. If that's is your will, I won't oppose it. A good day to you." I said in a last desperate move, trying to make him open to discussion. As I turned, I started walking towards the door. After a few moments, I heard a voice.

"Wait a minute." Dak finally said, after waiting a few moments. "Maybe I was too rough on you. Come with me in the back room."

I silently followed him behind the bar and into a small back-room which seemed to be a kitchen of sorts. There was also a door in this back room which lead to a small chamber which was lined with hooks on the walls. On one of the hooks I could see the ghastly image of an Imperial hung by the back of his head. Dak noticed me looking at the dead Imperial then smiled.

"Don't worry about him. He was a former business partner who came to me with a scam. When I found out about his little scam, I had a word with him. As you can see, he got hung up in the details. Now...go ahead and name your offer." Dak said with a crude smirk on his face. He obviously though that the sight of that Imperial would intimidate me. I had seen worse in my days though.

"I knew you'd reconsider." I said, smiling that my move had paid off. It was a very slight smile however, coupled with a feeling of fear. "I represent a certain faction which does not wish to be named, yet it works in the interest of Hammerfell and all Redguards."

"What does that have to do with me?" Dak asked.

"I happen to have heard of a conflict you and friends have with the Orc mercenaries present in this city. The Imperial Legion has also been encroaching on your affairs more than you find pleasant. I have a solution for your problems." I said, trying to speak in a mysterious tone.

"Cut the small talk, what are you proposing?" Dak asked in a rather impacient way.

"I can arrange for an opportunity to severely weaken both the Legion and the Orcs in one fell stroke. The plan has already been set in motion, as a matter of fact. All that is needed now is that you give your word of cooperation." I said, eluding the subject once more.

"Hm, it sounds interesting enough. You're still being too vague though. What exactly does your plan involve? Be more specific and I'll give you a proper answer." Dak said. He appeared interested enough.

"Well, alright. Let me explain. Several of our agents have already infiltrated both the Orcs and the Legion, and have convinced them to head off into a specific spot at a specific time of the night. At that specific time, both the Orcs and the Legionnaires will be standing idly, expecting to find a gang of thieves unloading their loot after a succesful heist. That would be the perfect time for an ambush. All that is needed is a willing and able company of men ready to set off the ambush. That's where your organization comes in." I said, explaining the plan.

"Fair enough. You mentioned some agents however. If this job is so important to you, why don't you pull it off yourself if you're representing such a powerful faction?" Dak asked.

"We do have some agents, yet they are not enough to succesfully put an ambush into effect. They are also ill-fitted for combat, rather for infiltration and subterfuge." I said, trying to give an excuse for the reason we couldn't do this alone.

"I don't understand the last words you said but you seem honest enough. If you'd have been with the Guard my men would have gutted you the moment you stepped inside my tavern and you would have joined that Imperial back there. Very well then. I'll spread the word and have my men ready. When will the ambush take place?" Dak asked with a grin. It was a grin of revenge however. Revenge he was going to get for all the hardships the Legion and the Orcs had caused him.

"My own men have yet to set out and 'warn' the Legion and the Orcs about the supposed gathering of thieves. When night sets in however, they will go. It's best to have your men ready before night comes. Have them sit quietly at the spot and wait for the Orcs and the Legionnaires to come. When they're both at the spot, and wondering where the loot is, pounce." I said, explaining how Dak should arrange his men. Hopefully, he would listen.

"Very well then. Where exactly is this spot?" Dak asked in a curious tone. I simply handed him a note written by Jon, detailling where the ambush would take place. He looked at it with a quick glance then smiled. "Aye, I know this place well enough. Is there anything more I should know?"

"No. I'll be leaving know if you don't mind. I hope your men at the door won't be giving me any trouble." I said as I left the small back room. Dak followed me and resumed to tending glasses and mugs.

"If they would have given you trouble you'd have been dead by now." Dak said simply as he looked down at his glasses.

"Or the other way around." I said, smiling as I left. I could hear Dak laughing behind me.

"You sure have a sense of humour Redguard! Off with you!" he said, during bursts of laughter.

Now that the street gangs had been handled, I eagerly returned to the "Serpent's Coil" to anounce Jon and Bodean of my exploits. Hopefully, Beomir should have also returned by then. The short trip back to the "Coil" was uneventful and I soon found myself stepping inside the large common rooms. I could see Jon waving at me from the door to the back-room where we first thought out the plan. I was quick to follow him inside the back-room. I hastily took a seat at the small table inside, where Bodean, Jon, Belwin and Beomir were also sitting. Beomir's simple cloth tunic was dirty and torn in places, with some dried leaves and twigs also sticking out of his long hair. He had just returned from the forest, by the looks of him.

"Greetings, I hope I didn't miss something." I said, eager to hear what Beomir had to say.

"No, Beomir just arrived. He was going to tell us about his forray in the wild." Belwin said with a smile as he looked at Beomir. He was eager to hear what news Beomir brought as well.

"Well, as I was saying before Arthago arrived, I was stalking about the forest with these two trackers who were friends of mine, freshly arrived from Falkreath. Red-blooded Nords both of them. Anyway, we were looking through the forest but all we could find were some bones left by wild beasts and the odd animal droppings. After a few hours of pointless wandering, one of my friends, Valgeir was his name, finally gave a shout. He had just found something. I rushed to the place where he was standing. At his feet, was a fine corslet bearing the arms of Taneth. It was bloodied. We continued our search however. Soon we found other signs of a despicable deed. A bloodied sword, a rusted helm and a pair of gauntlets shattered beyond repair, dried blood coating them." Beomir said with an eager voice as he recounted his tale.

"Fitting evidence, yet did you find a body?" Jon asked, anxious to hear more.

"We kept on looking for one more hour. My other friend, Thorsten, kept finding separate tracks. One pair was that of a heavy, mailed, pair of boots. The other pair was soft and almost invisible to the untrained eye. The tracks kept going as if in a chase. We lost the trail several times until Valgeir found the remains of a struggle, and a body. It was the body of a woman. Judging from what we found, she had used a large branch as a weapon against her attacker. The branch had been cleaved in two however." Beomir said, finally smiling after he finished his tale.

"I think we have our culprit." Belwin said in a calm voice. He never seemed to get over-enthusiastic about things.

"The signs all point in the same direction. The murder of a woman by a guardsman of Taneth. But was that guardsman the very Captain of the Guard?" Jon asked in a rather rhetorical way.

"Well, look for yourself and tell me if this is the armour and weapon of a regular guardsman." Beomir said as he stood up and heaved a large sack on the table. Inside, was the corslet and the blade they had found in the woods. I took the blade and examined it. It was made of fine steel, a kind unlike most swords. The edge was coated with a layer of silver. That meant that the weapon was custom-made, and very expensive. It obviously wasn't the weapon of a regular guardsman.

"This blade is of very fine craftsmanship. It couldn't have belonged to a regular member of the City Guard. See the edge?" I said as I held the blade close for everyone to see the silver coated on the edge. "This is a very expensive blade to give to a minor guardsman. So is the corslet, by its appearance."

"I think it's very obvious what happened. The honoured user murdered his wife then hid the evidence in the woods. He also was too foolish to hide it propperly, from the looks of things. I can surely say that we have a culprit on our hands. I'll start writing those propaganda leaflets right away. I think it's fitting for the people of Taneth to know what kind of a man their Guard Captain is." Bodean said in a despising tone.

"Well, we were lucky. We found both a body and the evidence regarding who did the crime. Now, the only thing left to do is to pay a visit to the Orcs. We were thinking you should go Beomir." I said, changing the subject.

"Great. Countless hours of wandering about the forest and looking at the ground for tracks can become very boring, very fast. Let me change my clothes and I'll be on my way. Perhaps there will be some fighting as well." Beomir said with a grin as he left the table to change his clothes.

"No fighting Beomir, we don't want to blow our cover! Just talk, alright?" I said, trying to warn Beomir not to ruin the whole operation. A dissapointed grumble was the only answer I received yet it was enough.

With the Street Gangs ready to spring the trap on the Legion and the Orcs, everything which was now needed was for someone to actually tip the two groups off about a gathering of thieves which would split their loot. Belwin was already preparing to leave, and so was Beomir. All I had to do was to wait. Hopefully, the next day we would already be on the road to Rihad, leaving Taneth behind us in its new, revolutionary state. Good plans however always had a history of not working at the last moment. Hopefully, this one would. It had little consequence however if our plan would succeed or not. With the events which had already been placed in motion, Taneth would be shaken to its very foundations.
~~~
That's it for this rather long chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

It's good to see the plan being put into action. I hope Beomir doesn't annoy the Orcs too much during his visit.

Nice, very nice.

There is only one thing I keep wondering though.
Did Beomir really find things the way he described them, or did he 'help fate' a bit? (By arraying the branch for example)

Now comes the very important stuff. I'm still wondering whether someone will screw up or not. I guess I'll find out soon.... Excellent update as usual.

After a rather long hiatus, Arthago's adventure shall begin anew. Ahem. Until another hiatus sets in at least.

~~~
I was woken up in a rough manner from my bed. I could feel Beomir's large, rough palms shaking my shoulders violently. He was also shouting at me rather loudly to get up. He had already gotten dressed for the road and he had his long, bearded axe in his hand. He also seemed quite alarmed, despite at first I couldn't see him properly because of the darkness. When I woke up I instinctively put the dagger I had in my bed against his throat and Beomir seemed quite surprised to see me move so fast under such sudden conditions. I was true to my word however when I said that I slept with a blade in my bed.

"Get up Arthago! Quick, there's no time to loose!" Beomir kept saying as he almost pulled me out of my bed. He backed up a little after seeing the dagger at his throat but soon came back close. Belwin was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Belwin?" I asked in a confused voice.

"He went invisible as soon as they came and he's nowhere to be found now. Quick, there's little time to explain!"

"What's happening? Who's here?" I said, as I strapped on the scabbard of my scimitar. I also looked around for the pack in which I held my armour. Based on what Beomir was about to tell me I would decide if I would try to fit on at least some pieces of armour on me, in case of a confrontation.

"The law! Clavilla's men! They've found out about us and our plans and now they're here to arrest us." Beomir said with an alarmed voice uncharacteristic of him.

"Damn! They found out about the plan? How did the ambush go?" I asked rather hastily as I fitted on my gauntlets. They had leather gloves inside them so I could put them on comfortably without the rest of my armour. Sadly enough, the only other piece of armour I could fit on were the greaves which protected my lower leg. I realized this exactly when I wanted to fit on the pieces of armour defending my upper leg, called cuisses, which had to be laced up to my arming vest, which had specialized leather thongs used to fasten different parts of armour to the body. Without an arming vest, few pieces of armour could be properly fitted on, besides the gauntlets and some defense for the lower legs. These would have to suffice.

"The ambush went on just as we planned it, the Orcs and the legionnaires sent are all dead but it seems that we've had a traitor among us." Beomir said with a grim voice.

"Who?"

"I don't know but now's not the time to be askin' such questions Redguard! We must find a way out of this tavern."

"Clavilla's men are at the front door? Are they inside the tavern?"

"No...not yet at least."

"We must find Bodean or Jon immediately, they're our only way out of this building, and this city as well probably." I said as I finally drew my sword ready for any combat.

"Jon's disappeared just like Belwin so that only leaves Bodean." Beomir answered as he raised his axe as well.

"Then let's go. The back room is probably the best room to go to if we want to find him. There must also be some exit in case Clavilla's men ever came to search the building. Bodean or Jon must have thought about that." I said as I opened the door and left the room. Beomir cautiously followed.

I could hear the guardsmen shouting from outside the building. There were some windows in the hall-way we were passing through to get to the common-rooms but I didn't try to look out any of them since Clavilla's men surely had bows pointed at the building. Soon enough we reached the common-rooms. They were almost full of people but they were all too afraid to leave the tavern. Someone had barricaded the door with tables and broken chairs before I had woken up. I gave Beomir a quick gaze after seeing the barricade.

"A little defenses never hurt. Besides, their patrons had drunken quite enough." he said as he gazed quickly at the mess of upturned chairs and tables.

The patrons all noticed us yet they were too terrified to do anything. By the looks of the situation, they all though they would be arrested and thrown in the dungeons or worse. The door to the back room where Bodean and Jon usually stood was locked from the inside. Beomir however 'unlocked' it the old-fashioned way after I hopelessly tried to open the door by using the handle. The room was a mess as well. The table and the few chairs in the room were all upturned and close to the door. Beneath the table, I could notice a small trap-door which had been used a little while ago.

"It seems the Fellowship of Taneth really had thought of everything." I said with a smile as I knelt near the trap-door.

"Except this." Beomir said with a rather calm voice.

Before I could reply I heard a loud crash and the sound of cracking, burning wood. Someone had blown the door open. For good measure, Beomir barricaded the door to the back-room as well with the upturned table and the chairs thrown about. As we scurried inside the trap-door we could hear the sound of many heavy, armoured feet entering the tavern and indiscriminate shouting and screaming. As I stood and listened carefully, trying to understand what happened, I could feel Beomir's hand on my shoulder.

"We should get going Arthago. There's little time to loose."

"Yes, wait just a moment, I wish to know how the Guard discovered us." Despite running seemed like the best option, and it really was, I didn't want to have a company of Taneth watchmen on my back for the rest of the journey to Taneth.

After a few more moments of tense silence in which all I could hear was Beomir's breathing and the sounds caused by the commotion in the common-rooms up above I could actually hear some talking from upstairs. It was faint I could make out an Imperial speaking loudly.

"They've locked themselves in here...don't pay...traitor...until...their heads...call the...hunt them" the Imperial said amid the scuffle that was going on inside the common-rooms. I remained perplexed when I heard that we had a traitor in our midst. A firm shake from Beomir soon woke me up from my day-dreaming however, thinking who could have been the traitor.

"Arthago! Come on already!"

"Time to go, we've heard enough." I said hastily as I started looking around our surroundings.

We were inside a dark chamber dug into the ground beneath the back-room. We were standing right next to a wall while the chamber went on behind us, forming into a tunnel. Since we had nowhere else to go, I decided that following where this tunnel was the best option we had. Better than returning to the tavern at least. By the talk of that Imperial it also seemed that we would be having company. It also seemed Clavilla was truly angry with out attempt to weaken her grasp on Taneth.

"What do you think that guy meant with someone hunting us?" I asked Beomir after a short while.

"The only thing it could...a bounty hunter." Beomir said with a grim voice. It wasn't his usual rather careless and laid back demeanour as well, it was something much more concerned.

"Is it...bad?" I asked in a rather obvious way.

"I've had run-ins with bounty hunters before and these guys are always hard as hell to avoid. I think it could be easier to avoid a Daedric curse, than it is to evade a good bounty hunter. And judging by this witch's money, I don't think she would be pleased with second-best." Beomir said. It was for the first time that I could feel genuine fear in his voice.

"So we're in trouble...again." I said matter-of-factly. "And do you happen to know who is the best bounty hunter?"

"Some bloke called Old Leo used to be the best bounty hunter but I'm not sure who's the best one now. Old Leo got killed in an odd fight with a weird guy he was hunting. Either that or he retired, I don't really know but that's how most stories go. Let's just hope we don't end up making this guy famous."

"How so?"

"Well, imagine how famous this guy will become if he manages to kill both a knight of Sentinel and a Nord mercenary. Hopefully, he'll just end up being another one of those guys who tried to outdo Leo and found himself on the wrong end of a sword or a spear."

"Hopefully. Still, after we find where this tunnel leads we have to find Belwin." I said, returning the discussion to what really mattered to us.

"Why do we really need that snotty Breton? All he's good at is talking on and on about what he did back home and how he dislikes my ways. Why would we need him? I mean, we have all we need, us two. We're two good warriors who know how to handle ourselves. We can make end's meat in Rihad with or without Belwin." Beomir said. That was the first time Beomir openly showed disdain for Belwin around me.

"No. We shouldn't abandon Belwin here. He's helped us on this journey ever since it began. He also saved your life when he could have done nothing and stood idly by while we were fighting. You owe him your life and now, when things get tough and you start losing faith in yourself, you propose we leave him behind." I said with a determined tone as we kept trudging on through the tunnel.

"All he'd do would be to slow us down Arthago! You know that very well yet you choose to lie to yourself just because of some imaginary use you find for the upstart. The only use I could find for him would be as carrion for crows."

"That's enough Beomir! My will is set and that is my final word on the matter. You either abide by my decisions which, ultimately, represent the will of King Lhotun or you leave. Either way, your presence won't be sorely missed if you choose to leave." I shouted, getting angry at what Beomir was saying. He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned and started staring straight at me. Despite the darkness, I could almost feel his anger.

"Do you hear that?" he asked as he stood motionless.

"What?" I asked, pretending to be confused. In reality fear started surging throughout my veins and I slowly grasped the handle of my sword in the darkness.

"Exactly that, Redguard. The silence of darkness and the silent roar of ground closing all around you. People who have been buried alive are very familiar with that feeling. Pray to your gods that you never experience that feeling firsthand but I promise that you will if ever you shall speak like that to me again. Understand?" Beomir asked in an aggressive fashion. I could almost feel him raising his axe against me. After a few moments of silence I could hear him taking a step back.

"What's stopping me from killing you where you stand?" I asked, slowly. I slowly unsheathed my blade as I said so, trying to mask the sound with my words.

"Your conscience."

Immediately after Beomir said those words I could hear his axe hacking through the air down towards my head. I had unsheathed more than half of my sword however by the time he was done talking so I quickly unsheathed the rest of it and raised it into a guard position in one fluid motion. Since there was little room to maneuver and even less light to see anything I had to guess where the axe stroke might fall. I raised my blade into a position called the "Eagle's Guard" holding it parallel to my body slightly in front of me. The blade ran horizontally across my body so as to act as a wall against Beomir's strike. Before I had time to even move back a few steps I could fell his heavy axe striking my blade. Luckily I had placed it right in the way of his axe and because his axe had a bearded blade I used it as leverage to push away his axe from me.

With a strong push I heaved his axe into the nearby wall then, as I stood, I made a quick pirouette to close the distance. Using the momentum given by the pirouette I pulled my blade as I ended the pirouette, thus ending it with a slash aimed for Beomir's head. The momentum gave the horizontal slash force yet Beomir had retreated out of instinct. Not quick enough however. My blade made contact and I could soon hear him fall down, screaming in pain. I also felt blood on my face yet it was none of my blood, since I wasn't wounded.

As I approached Beomir I could hear that he was still alive by his loud screams of pain and curses. Raising my blade so as to give him a final blow I could see that his face started to light up. Literally. I had slashed him with my sword across the face and he was bleeding badly. Soon enough I could see almost all of Beomir as if a candle was nearby. I could see the whole tunnel much better actually. I soon discovered the reason why. The guardsmen had broken inside the back room and had found the trap-door. They were now inside the tunnel and they had torches with them, hence the light.

"Another time Beomir!" I whispered quickly as I grasped Beomir's axe and tried to throw it towards the guardsmen.

The axe was too big and unwieldy to throw so it hit the ceiling of the tunnel in flight then fell to the ground. Cursing my attempt to throw an axe I quickly fled, leaving Beomir in a pool of his own blood. I ran with all my speed towards the end of the tunnel and I felt I was going faster with each step I made. The adrenaline and fear from the sudden clash with Beomir was probably the cause of that. As I ran I felt as if there was no end to this damned tunnel yet I soon found that there was. One of my strides found no ground to step. So did the other. Thus I found myself in a pool of dirty, smelly water. I was still underground however.

Things had just gotten a whole lot wetter.
~~~
I hope you like this update made after my considerable break. Anyway, comments are welcome!

Woah, that was quite something. Arthago and Beomir got into a scuffle, Belwin is gone, as is the resistance. Oh, and we've got a chase on our hands. Big stuff happening here.

Another revival of this thing, great!

Another update my dear readers. As some of you may know, I've started playing Oblivion again. This time, I have a wonderful rig and the best mods out there so what I'm playing really is the optimal Oblivion experience. I have OOO, about six of the Unique Landscapes mods (brilliant mods), Addonay's classical weaponry mod (the greatest swords out there), several of the RealSwords mods (race-specific blades which give advantages to their respective race but which can be wielded by anyone) and the Living Economy mod (a mod that really makes bartering worthwhile) along with a few other annoyance removers and smaller mods (low-poly grass etc.). But of course, that's not the reason you're reading this is it?

~~~
After a few moments in which I tried to analyze my new surroundings, I realized that I had somehow ended up in the sewers of Taneth and that I was floating in the sewage coming from the houses in the poorer districts of Taneth. Great, just great. I didn't really have time to complain however since the Taneth City Watch along with a possible bounty-hunter were after me. Hopefully they would linger a bit by Beomir before resuming the chase proper. I didn't wait to find out if they captured Beomir however. I just swam.

As far as I remembered, these sewers were drained into the Abecean Sea so, hopefully, if I kept swimming I would reach the coastline and gain less than half-a-dozen diseases while doing it. If I wasn't lucky, I would probably get lost in these smelly sewers and die either of starvation or disease.

First however I tried to get out of the filthy water. There was a stone ledge near so I swam towards it and tried to climb. After a few failed attempts I finally managed to scramble up the filthy rock. After trying to clean myself a bit I discovered that the smell would be hard to hide if any members of the Taneth Watch came looking for me down in the sewers. The ledge I was on followed the flow of the water so my best bet was to follow the water to where it was drained into the sea.

As I made my way, following the winding waters, I had to be wary of any drainage pipes encased in the walls since I was liable of being hit in the face by a pile of waste any moment. Thus, I kept my wits about me as I held the walls closely. The stone walls were probably white once, yet time and the waste thrown by the people of Taneth had rendered it barely recognizable. There was filth stuck between the stones and a heavy odour coming from the rocks themselves. I couldn't wait to get out of this place.

I needed a plan however. I was now really all by myself, as I had always been. Belwin had disappeared and
Beomir was probably in the hands of Clavilla by now, being tortured for information. Once I got out of these filthy sewers, I had to continue towards Rihad, with or without my comrades. Belwin was a crafty fellow and he had probably seen the Watch outside the tavern before Beomir did so. He also knew that, ultimately, I would end up in Rihad, one way or another so, if the Watch hadn't captured him yet, he was probably on his way to Rihad while I was crawling through the sewers. Knowing Belwin, he had probably cast an invisibility spell and gotten out of the tavern the moment the Watch appeared knocking on our door.

Beomir however was another matter entirely. The Watch had captured him and I didn't really feel well about leaving him behind, to torment and, probably, death. Still, now that I thought about it better, he wouldn't have had these same concerns for me, seeing as he tried to kill me in the tunnel. The dastard deserved to rot, no matter what my conscience told me. Heh. My famous conscience. The very thing that gave Beomir the confidence to attack me had been his downfall for, in those moments, I stopped thinking entirely and just went with the flow. That was the secret to fighting properly.

Thinking in combat was, mostly, a mere hindrance. You had to let instinct take hold of you and pray that your favoured combat moves would be etched into your very sub-conscience so that you would use them without even realizing it. That was what I had done with Beomir earlier. That high parry, the Eagle's Guard, was a move my father had taught me incessantly, constantly telling me how useful it would be when I would fight someone taller than me, or someone who simply preferred high strikes.

When in combat, you simply had to empty your mind and stop caring about your most things. If you went into a fight with an obsessive fear of getting hurt, then you would naturally fight in a very fearful, defensive way, something which would allow your opponent to overwhelm you. If you went into a fight with a clear mind, then you would obviously have none of these problems. At least that was what my father and various other trainers I had worked with over the years told me. As one of my favourite trainers said, the time to think is before and after a fight, never during one. When I asked him about one of his favourite moves, a powerful hit using the elbow delivered to the neck, and what bad things could happen to the opponent he simply said: "Who cares? He's your enemy."

Of course, I tried to avoid using that move in something as minor as a bar brawl since it was a very dangerous move which could make your opponent swallow his tongue. Of course, if you stopped thinking and caring about the consequences then that thing wouldn't really matter.

Another method this trainer favoured in particular was sending me to watch various animals. Be it watching the horses at the stables or simply observing some guy's dogs, my trainer tried to make me realize how an animal would react to certain situations in comparison to a human being. He also asked me what I saw in their eyes but I never really could answer his question because that's exactly what you see in the eyes of an animal: nothing at all. A more thorough answer could be the absence of fear and thought yet in the end it's all the same. That's just it about animals, they are always living in the moment, never thinking ahead into the future like many people do. Quite honestly, if they would think about their future, then they couldn't really enjoy their lives since they would have so many things to worry about. Where to find food, where to find a mate, where to sleep, how to escape predators. Humans have much the same needs, except in a different context. Most of them actually think and worry about those needs as well so that could prove to be another thing that sets us apart from animals.

Now that I think more about this trainer I remember that his name was Thoros and that he was one of the Yokus, the old-style Redguards who lived by the old ways and traditions, worshiping the old gods as well. He also had many philosophical and esoteric answers for many of my questions, answers which confused me more than they managed to enlighten. To give an example, I once asked him how one could become invincible. He stood for a few moments thinking then simply said: "The sparrow never lands where the tiger roams."

Finding an answer for that particular question took me more than fourteen years thus, I wonder, how long would it take someone else? Nevertheless, all this thinking and these nostalgic memories of my youth made the journey through the sewers much more bearable. Thinking about the various principles taught to me over the years made time pass much faster and it also lightened my mind regarding the tasks at hand. As I looked forwards, I could see a light and the exit to the sewers. The trek through the sewers had not been all that hard. I had found the exit by simply using my nose, for the air felt less foul on the way towards the exit than it did in other directions.

Seeing the sun on my face once more was truly refreshing. It was almost like awakening after a stormy night full of nightmares. I had been in the sewers all night long and meanwhile the sun had risen outside. I was now standing on a thin ledge on the edge of a cliff. Looking out around me I could see the city of Taneth a short way North-East of my current position. It seemed that the people of Taneth had planned for the sewers to be drained outside their actual city and somewhat far away from it so that its people would not have to cope with the stench of the gutter. The only problem now was actually getting down from the high place I was standing on. From where I was, the sewage draining out of the sewers formed a small waterfall falling lazily down into the Abecean Sea. Since I couldn't really climb the rocks either up or down the cliff, I had no choice but to jump into the water.

Taking several steps back, I started running towards the edge of the cliff. When I was actually close to the edge, I used my momentum and jumped, holding on tight to my sword. I flew through the air for a few seconds and I felt almost as a bird in flight. I returned to the real world however as soon as I hit the water. It was cold and the plunge almost broke my legs. At least I was safe though. Swimming back to shore I found a secluded beach close to the cliff from where I had jumped. After resting there for a bit and taking off my greaves to examine my legs, I was off again. Hopefully, to Rihad. Hope however had an odd way of appearing when you least expected it and of disappearing when you most needed it.

~~~
That's it for this update. It wasn't to short I hope?

It was a good size for what you wrote. I love the little reminisce about his fighting training. Good work.

A swift update to surprise you.

~~~
The warm sand of the beach along with the cool water brought by the tide touching the tips of my toes made me feel like I was in some tropical paradise. I had almost forgotten completely about my troubles yet that was a mistake I was soon to mend. After lying down on the beach and standing there for a few minutes fear suddenly surged into my body as I heard a shout. Then another one. By the voices I could notice that they were Nords. As I rose to my feet and drew my sword I ran towards the rock-wall nearby. The voices were coming from high up the rocks, were a forest bloomed. I suspected that the road to Rihad was also close-by since they couldn't have found me that fast if this place was as far away as it looked. As I hugged the cliff-face, I listened carefully.

"See anything Valgeir?" one of the voices shouted from one end of the rocks. "Valgeir?"

"Thorsten, come! I have found some tracks!" Valgeir shouted back to his companion.

Hm, Thorsten and Valgeir. These names seemed strangely familiar yet I couldn't remember where exactly I had heard them before. Now that I thought about it however I could somewhat remember Beomir mentioning them once.When exactly was it? Oh yes, now I remembered. Valgeir and Thorsten were the two Nord trackers who helped Beomir uncover the body of the wife of the former Guard Captain of Taneth. By the way Beomir described them, they seemed quite skilled and experienced in their field of work yet he did not call them bounty-hunters. From what I understood, Beomir never had any relations of friendship with bounty-hunters, only with people of his own ilk-mercenaries to be exact.

The fact that these two were tracking me however wasn't good. If I would have to deal with search-parties from Taneth, a bounty-hunter and these two Nords then I was in for a hard time. Looking around and pricking my ears, I could notice that everything had gotten quiet. Perhaps the two trackers had come to the conclusion that I wasn't anywhere near or they could have spotted the marks I left in the sand after lying down. Either way, I wasn't prepared to stick around and find out. When I had first dashed to the rock-wall I had seen a small opening in the sheer-rock a little to the right from the place where I was standing. Since anything was better than being in the open, I approached the opening.

As I clambered precariously along the wall, trying to be inconspicuous, I discovered that the opening in the rock was actually the entrance to a cave. I almost lost my balance when I neared the cave entrance yet I soon regained it and entered. The cave was dank and a slight smell of rotten meat floated in the air. That was odd when I considered that this cave was supposed to be empty. Still, in my current position I had little choice. Since I wasn't in the open anymore, I lied down close to a wall. From the entrance, the cave wound forward forming a straight tunnel. As I stood with my back against the wet wall I could feel a dreary feeling taking hold of me. All the running had finally gotten to me and my eyes were starting to close by themselves. Losing hold of my sword, I fell into the deceiving embrace of sleep. For the moment, it seemed like the best thing in the world. As I fell deeper asleep, even the moist rock of the wall seemed as comfortable as a fine bed.

I woke up probably hours later yet I felt a bothering pain in the side of my head. I looked around and couldn't really recognize the cave anymore. The place where I had fell asleep was somewhat different. It was the beginning of a long, almost straight, tunnel. This place, where I was now, was like a big round chamber. An eerily empty one yet there were signs all around me of occupants. On the edges of the chamber there were small stools and logs which slightly resembled chairs, along with odd rock formations that were flat as tables. I could also see firewood in one of the alcoves on the edges of the chamber. Most worryingly, in the middle of the chamber there was a big open fire with a long wooden stakes above it held by two other wooden stakes. The whole thing looked like it was a roast yet there was nothing stuck to the stake. Near the fire there were also generous quantities of rope. It was old rope of a poor quality yet enough of it could probably immobilize a wild-boar.

I had had just enough of my new lodgings so I prepared to depart. If only my head wouldn't boom with pain. I soon discovered however that I was forced to to prolong my stay, without my own consent. My hands had been tied behind my back to a stalagmite shooting up from the rock-floor. Try as I may, I could not pull myself free nor tear apart the thick rope. I hated moments like this when carelessness took the better of me! I was now forced to wait and see what fate was in store for me. By the looks of it, that fire had been prepared with a big meal in mind. Something like a deer or a wolf...or a human.

The only thing left to do was to meet my tormentors. The dastards had parted me of my trusty scimitar as well. I looked around yet everywhere I looked I could see the same things: a dinner table being prepared. The only sharp objects around were just old pieces of cutlery like forks or knives. My "patrons" soon appeared however, removing the shroud of mystery which surrounded them. Their scaly green skin shone in the pale light of the bonfire, their mistreated fangs hung out of their mouthes and their bright yellow eyes showed nothing but mischief and evil. Goblins. Lots of them.

As soon as one of the foul creatures emerged, about eight others followed it. They were all scantily dressed. Some wore only a loin-cloth to cover themselves. All the years they had spent in this cave had made them accustomed to the moisture and the cool breeze which sometimes passed through the cavern. Most of them lied down on either logs or stools around the fire but two of them came to enjoy themselves at my expense. One of them played with my head, his blunt claws scratching my skin in an annoying manner, while another giggled like a demon at my predicament. I could almost understand him taunting me in his own language. They soon left me to my torment however, pleased of their feat of capturing me alive.

Another three goblins soon entered the chamber from some passages which I could not see, one of them precariously holding my scimitar. Despite he fact that in my hands it wasn't that big of a weapon, in the fiend's claws it seemed like a claymore. He came right up to me and swung it around in a mocking way, at a safe distance however so he couldn't hurt me with it. It was now very clear, the beasts were saving me for later so they could eat me properly.

More and more goblins came to enjoy the show, as it were, of seeing a live Redguard bound hand and foot in front of their very eyes. Soon enough, a couple of goblins brought three big drums, almost as big as the goblins themselves. They set them around the fire. Three goblins then rolled their stumps up to the drums and started playing the drums with the palms of their hands, keeping up a constant beat. The scene was starting to get surreal. The only thing missing was to have the goblins start chanting something as they prepared to fry me.

After a few more goblins had tormented me with their demonic laughter and mindless games a stranger goblin came to examine me, followed by two other goblins carrying poor quality axes with rusted axe-heads. They had leather caps on their heads and weird tattoos on their arms. The goblin which they were apparently escorting had only a stained apron and was carrying a ladle. Unlike many of the goblins, he was neither overjoyed at seeing me nor particularly mischievous. He treated with cold precision. He examined my entire body closely, from head to toe, noting how much muscle I had on me and if my bones were too big. He seemed pleased at the end of the examination and only then giggled with mischief as most of the goblins did. With a squeal he then left, followed by his two guards.

The atmosphere was starting to get rather tense as the decisive moment approached. At first I was terribly afraid when I discovered that I was going to get eaten yet a feeling of resentment soon started setting in. I stopped really caring whether I was eaten alive or whether they killed me before roasting me. I had lost my concentration and that had led to my downfall. There wouldn't be a second chance, to atone for my mistakes. Hopefully, some wandering adventurer would discover this godforsaken cave and learn from my mistakes, somewhere in the near future. If any part of me was left after this goblin-feast.

The little beasts sure had great pleasure in tormenting me before the moment came when they would fry me. I had lost count of how many times a goblin had come up to me and had shook my head or tried to tickle me with their claws. It had gotten to a point that it was so annoying that I would have begged them to eat me, if I had only known their language. They did have a language however. It was odd yet, with perseverance, one could surely learn it. Of course, now was not the time to learn a foreign language. Now was a time for prayers and, in a man's time of need even an atheist could start praying. I for one knew that I did, despite the fact that I wasn't an atheist. I didn't go to temple often either, but it never was too late to start, as the priests often said.

After saying many prayers to almost all of the gods I knew, even some Daedric ones (probably because of the desperation), I felt that the moment when the goblins would eat me was nearing. It seemed almost as if the beasts had prolonged my suffering just so they could turn me into a nervous wreck. I wasn't prepared to give them that satisfaction however. My only regret was that I couldn't die fighting the beasts. I also had other regrets, yet they weren't really appropriate for the situation. The goblin with the apron, who must have been the cook of the goblin tribe, returned to the chamber along with another goblin besides the two warriors following him. This new goblin was wearing some extravagant headgear, most probably the skull of a ram. It still had the horns so it made the goblin look particularly frightening. By the way most goblins treated this new goblin, he must have been their chieftain. Like every other goblin did, he also came up to me and looked at me. After eying me over and casting a demonic smile he went near the fire and raised his hands. He then said something in the harsh tongue of the goblins, something which seemed to frenzy the other goblins. They all raised their hands much like the chieftain and some of them who were holding anything, cutlery, twigs, rocks, anything at all, started banging what they had against the rock tables. It seemed almost as if the goblins started chanting. Just my luck. The scene was now complete and it seemed I was going to be devoured by the cannibal goblins.

Hope however, as I said before, had an odd habit of appearing when it was least expected. An inhuman shout silenced the goblins standing about the fire. As they all started looking around I could see a notable feeling of anger and hate in their yellow little eyes. In some of them I could even see a certain dose of fear. Things had just gotten a whole lot better. It could have been a bigger monster, like an ogre or a troll. It would have killed the goblins then it would have eaten me in its own way, so the situation didn't improve by a lot. Instead of being cooked and eaten by goblins, I would get devoured alive by an ogre. If it was an adventurer however, well that changed things. If it was an experienced adventurer, then he could slay the goblins and rescue me, thus learning from my mistakes in a much more user-friendly way, for me at least. If it was an inexperienced adventurer, then he would just get killed by the goblins or even captured and eaten along with me. If that was truly the case, then the goblins would have had a real holiday. I could just imagine the goblins telling themselves about it.

"So what's the news?"

"We bagged another adventurer today, along with the one we already have."

"And?"

"We're eating em' both. Bring a friend!"

Of course, now was not a time to make grim predictions. For the moment, I just watched and listened. Goblins scurried off in all directions from the chamber I was in, some heading to the right while some ran to the left, all entering passages hidden from sight. I could also notice goblins brandishing weapons that had been hidden thus far. Goblins which had no weapon prepared ran off to get their own. The chieftain waited around the fire as two of the lesser goblins brought his armour and fitted it on him. As he stood to let his servants properly fit on his armour, the chieftain threw a glance towards me. I could almost hear him saying that after they dealt with this annoyance they would return for me.

After his armour was ready, he hastily grabbed a spiked steel mace brought to him and ran off in the direction of his warriors to face the threat. The chamber was soon emptied completely, except for the goblin cook which hid behind a rock, throwing his ladle in an act of fear and desperation. It was clearly the first time he had experienced the attack of an adventurer. Since the chamber was now empty, besides the fear-stricken cook, I now listened carefully. I could hear the echoes of steel clashing with steel and the grotesque sounds of goblins giving their last breaths. Those sounds were music to my ears as I let off a visible smile. Despite the fact that the echoes made it hard to determine the source of the sounds, it was clear that they were approaching the chamber I was in. By the panic stricken cries of the goblins, it seemed they were dealing with an experienced adventurer.

Soon enough I saw a goblin running into the room. If he had a weapon, he had dropped it in favour of using his feet. By the bleeding gash on his shoulder, he had been wounded badly. Soon enough another "goblin" entered the chamber. This one however was somewhat lighter than his kin because only his head entered the chamber. It came rolling from the passage to the left, blood dripping from it in rivulets as it rolled into the fire. Something had beheaded the goblin with such strength that it had sent the head rolling into another part of the cave. That also meant that the adventurer was close however.

More goblins came from the passage to the left, going towards the passage to my right. Some of them ran off, trying to exit the cave, yet some stopped near the passage, trying to form a sort of barrier, a last stand of sorts, so that their comrades could escape. One of the goblins was carrying the wounded chieftain on his back. The chieftain's right arm had been hacked clean off, close to the shoulder and it was bleeding wildly. He didn't have much time left. I almost cheered when I saw the chieftain exiting the chamber on the back of his faithful follower. The goblins were clearly trying to evacuate the cave with what they had left.

After the chieftain left, an eerie silence set in. The goblins, about three of them, stood tense by the passage to my left as they waited for the adventurer. After a few moments of peace and quiet, all hell broke loose once more as the adventurer finally emerged from the passage to my left. He was a tall Argonian, powerfully built and dark-skinned, wielding a large steel claymore. He held the claymore in one hand however since two goblins were atop him, trying to wrestle him to the ground, one on each shoulder. The Argonian, trying to get rid of his unwanted guests, slammed his right shoulder into the rock-wall, slamming the goblin head-first into the wall as well in the process. He then repeated the process with the second goblin and soon two goblins with cracked skulls were lying on the ground. Afterwards, raising his claymore, he charged the remaining barricade of goblins head first.

Filled with dread at the sight of the Argonian, one of the goblins ran off, dropping his weapon and his shield. With a wide swing of his blade, the Argonian beheaded the first goblin and, after swinging his weapon back and forth several times, the second goblin was soon down on the ground as well, the arm with which he held his axe hacked off almost perfectly, bone and all. He had attempted a clumsy counter-attack after one of the Argonian's wide swings yet that was exactly what the Argonian was expecting. As the Argonian looked around the chamber, he noticed the goblins' dinner preparations. He then looked down towards the goblin with the hacked arm, which was still alive yet in great pain.

"Sorry for interrupting."

With a powerful thrust he then ended the goblin's miserable life. As he turned around, the Argonian noticed me. He seemed surprised at first yet he quickly regained his calm. As he approached me he held his blade high, in case any more goblins appeared or in case I was just something to bait him into walking into a trap. After standing still for a few moments and realizing that there was no trap involved, the Argonian lied down on one knee, bringing his own face to my level.

"Ah Malz, Fighters Guild."
~~~
I'm sure you'll never look at goblins the same way again.

Argonian to the rescue! Oh yea, big bad lizard with bigger sword. Sorry, but the mental image is just oozing with awesome.

On the other hand, Beomir's friends seem to be looking for Arthago. Does this mean the 'betrayal' had been planned?

Well, I did say they were mercenaries right? If they were in the neighbourhood and they got a job with good pay, why not go for it? I'll enlighten you in the next update anyway. Oh, and I see that we have something in common since you have (or better said will have) an entire story centered around one of these badass lizards.

Oh, and in other news, one of my fics was nominated on the site of the Witcher as one of the best in a competition which gave out three copies of Andrzej Sapkowski's book The Last Wish. For those of you who aren't acquainted with either The Witcher video-game or The Witcher series of books, Sapkowski is the one who wrote the books and created the character Geralt of Rivia (one of coolest anti-heroes out there). The fact that my fan fiction got published on the site just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside because of pride. Well, I didn't actually win anything but you're welcome to see for yourselves if I deserved to win anything or not.

Click for linkage: http://www.thewitcher.com/community/en/news/423.html

Here's the latest update. I hope my dear readers (yes, I'm meaning the two of you!) enjoy it.

~~~
The Argonian looked at me intently with his almost alien face. It reminded me of a toad, a dragon and a a lizard, all at the same time. Unlike other members of his race, his face was almost flat, his snout not being as elongated as the snouts of most Argonians I had met. Of course, I wasn't an expert on Argonians but it was plain to see that there were several different breeds of them. Some of them had odd legs, arched like a bird's, while some, like the one who was standing in front of me, had human legs, long and straight. The Argonian showed no emotion as he eyed me from head to toe, much like the goblin chef had done previously.

He was wearing an iron cuirass which appeared worn and weathered. Since he was a member of the Fighters Guild he must have received it when he joined. An old leather belt ran diagonally across his breastplate and it seemed that he had something hung across his back, most probably the scabbard of his sword. And what a sword he had! It was one of the great-swords, a claymore of fine make with a slightly serrated edge. The metal it was made of was of a darker colour than most tones of iron I had seen. Besides the cuirass, he also had some matching pauldrons with all of the associated dents and cuts, most probably from all the use they had seen. Instead of gauntlets he had a pair of leather vambraces which protected the wrist and the lower arm yet left your actual hands uncovered. It helped when you had claws instead of regular fingernails.

Besides those pieces of armour he wore little protective equipment so to speak off. He had no helmet and no armour to protect either his legs or the middle portion of his scaly arms. Instead of the greaves you would come to expect from someone who wants to protect himself with full armour, the Argonian only had some torn-up pants which were dirtied by the foray in the cave and blood stains from goblins he had slain. He left his feet bare since boots would have properly made him uncomfortable, based on the large claws he had at his feet as well.

A large spiky frill decorated the top of his head and his skin, much like his eyes, was red. The skin on his face was bright red, as his eyes, yet the skin on his lower body was of a much darker shade of red, almost crimson. He also had some black scales on his lower arms. His eyes were some of the oddest I had ever seen, based on the fact that they had vertical-slit pupils, much like lizards or cats.

Some time passed before he actually finished inspecting me. I had almost gotten to the point where I was ready to tell him that he should release me already and get over with it. I, thankfully, kept my calm. There was nothing stopping the Argonian from either leaving me there or, gods forbid, eat me himself. So what? A guy can hear stories. It's not like all former Dark Elf slave-traders are liars, right? There were some stories around Sentinel regarding the odd habits Argonians had, among them being the fact that they ate things live, without actually killing them. People included. Or was it Wood Elves that did that? In any case, I was now alone, with an Argonian, in a cave far away from civilization. The situation was actually starting to get scarier than the original deadly situation I was in, with the goblins. After a few more moments, the Argonian looked me in the eye again with his emotionless face.

"Last I heard, this place wasn't good to be sunbathed in." Ah-Malz said. From the way he said it, it have actually been meant as a joke, yet the Argonian's pronunciation wasn't exactly flawless. He reminded me of a snake since he happened to hiss sometimes.

"To sunbathe in, you mean? Well, I didn't actually come here to sunbathe. I came here to take a nap and, let's just say I got carried away. Literally. Carried away and tied to a boulder and, if you hadn't arrived just in the nick of time, I would have probably been eaten as well. So, I guess I owe you thanks, Ah-Malz of the Fighters Guild." I said in a pretty matter-of-factly way. There was a pause afterwards since he seemed to struggle with the meaning of my words.

"This one is not familiar with the language. Came to practice, see you? Both speaking and hunting. In native Stormhold I joined the Fighters Guild. After a few years, I decided to see the world and get paid for it, as Guild members say. My seeing and getting paid has taken me to Hammerfell, as you can hear." Ah-Malz said, once again forcing himself to speak a long, structured sentence. He was still wrong in certain points however.

"As I can see, you mean."

"You can what?"

"Nevermind. Just cut these ropes so I can finally get out of this blasted cave." I said, getting rather tired of the Argonian and his child-like language skills. It was really annoying talking to these illiterate foreigners that came to Hammerfell to learn something. What did they think Hammerfell was? Some kind of boarding school? It was a tough place. Even us Redguards, who were born and bred in Hammerfell, had a hard time getting by. What did these strangers expect to find in our lands?

"You were lucky. Few have ever been captured by the green-skins and lived to tell the tale. In Black Marsh, they're not trouble. In the rest of Tamriel however, they're as thick as Hackwings on the skies of Black Marsh. I make coin hunting goblins. Good business." Ah-Malz said, trying a smile as an afterthought though it had an unnerving effect more than anything since it showed me his unusually sharp teeth.

"I'm sure my friend. The rope?" I asked, trying to tell the Argonian that I wanted him to free me already. Subtlety didn't seem to be this fellow's strong point however.

"It is still there, nothing to worry. So, the goblin captured you? I killed them good eh?" The Argonian said in a nonchalant manner. He was starting to get on my nerves, if slightly. It seemed as if he was only talking to me so he could improve his language skills.

"They somehow captured me after I fell asleep. I woke up with a sharp pain in my head and my hands tied to this rock as you can see. About that, yes you did. You handle your sword well Argonian, you have native skill. And that's saying something, for a Redguard." I said, complimenting the Argonian on his skill in hopes that he would release me quicker.

"I was fisher back in Black Marsh. Skill you admire is skill gained fishing." Ah-Malz said, referring to his skill with the blade.

"What do you mean? How can one gain skill with the blade while fishing?" I said, thinking him to be an idiot. It was only then that I remembered I was talking to an Argonian who had lived most his life in his native Black Marsh.

"In Black Marsh, friend, fish can get bigger than you! Nasty teeth and tough hide. Need good steel to kill properly. Goblin is better. He is smaller and weaker, and cowardly. You saw? Three of them with me, and one runs and leaves brothers to die. Cowardly, is he not?" The Argonian asked, showing a genuine feeling a outrage through his tone of voice, though his face showed no visible emotions.

"I see. You know Ah-Malz, we could speak much more properly if I wasn't tied to this rock. What do you say about cutting me free?"

"I agree, but first, does this belong to you?"

The Argonian then left the chamber I was in, going towards the tunnel where had emerged from. After a few minutes in which he audibly searched around the cave he returned, his own great-sword sheathed, yet holding in his hands my scimitar. He had found it!

"Yes, that is my blade! How did you find it? Last I saw, a goblin was holding it." I said, overflowing with joy. Ah-Malz seemed to be proud that he had made me smile and laugh. Somehow he thought that his language skills were improving.

"Last I saw, I said right no? Last I saw, a goblin was holding it same. But I hit to death with my sword and bring it back to you." Ah-Malz said, trying to obviously imitate me.

"Yes, you did. Ah-Malz, are you from Taneth?" I asked, trying to make Ah-Malz tell me what had actually happened during my escape.

"Yes, Taneth Guild of Fighters. Why?"

"What have you heard lately from the city? Any odd news?" I said in an innocent way like I was simply curious. Even though the Argonian wasn't very knowledgeable when it came to the language used, he was no amateur when it came to reading expressions. He looked at me for a few seconds before replying yet I couldn't tell if he was suspecting something or just thinking about what he would say.

"Nothing much." He said, looking closely at my eyes. He paused then for a few moments. "Except one thing. A secret movement tried to kill the Queen of Taneth. She isn't pleased. She says that her agents managed to discover the conspiracy before it could act and destroy it."

"And were any members captured or killed?" I asked, trying to hide the obvious interest in my face.

"One was captured, a burly Nord if I'm corrected. Another member came of his own willing while the others are escaped. I realize there is thing I did not ask you." Ah-Malz said. His words gave me an odd feeling.

"What?" I asked, trying to appear innocent and uninformed.

"How are you named...friend?" Ah-Malz said ina rather conniving way. The way in which he added the word 'friend' seemed more like an afterthought, something to give me confidence that I was dealing with someone who was my friend. Something to give me the confidence needed to tell him something I would later regret. I got suspicious. After a few tense moments of silence I answered, trying not to give him my real name.

"Vil...gefortz. Vilgefortz, Knight Errant of Riverview. What of it Ah-Malz?" I asked in a nonchalant way. At first I wanted to give him the fake name 'Vilamon'. Only then did I remember that I had revealed both my true identity and my fake name to Jon and Bodean. If one of them betrayed me, or even Belwin or Beomir betrayed me, then Clavilla would have had information about my real name. Ah-Malz did not seem either pleased or suspicious yet with Argonians it was always hard to tell.

"Alright then. Let me free your ropes." Ah-Malz said as he drew a dagger he had as a secondary weapon. He circled the stalagmite then cut my ropes, giving me my freedom back. I wasn't quite prepared to let Ah-Malz out of my sights. I grasped my sword and sheathed it in my scabbard, which the goblins didn't touch. "You should know however that Queen says that the remaining conspiracy men will be hunted like dogs. Whatever that means. We don't really have dogs in Black Marsh."

"Why should it concern me? It's not like I did anything is it? Did you happen to see a sack of armour as well? Nice steel, about my size?" I asked, looking to see where my armour was. Hopefully, the goblins had not tinkered with it.

Ah-Malz took a sack which was slung on his back and threw it to me. I scurried to catch, caring so that my armour wouldn't fall to the wet cave floor. "Found it next to your sword."

"Thanks a lot Ah-Malz, I'll never forget you saved my life. Maybe when I'm in Taneth next time I'll buy you a drink. I sure owe you more than that however, that I know for sure!" I said in a cheerful way, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. If Ah-Malz was suspicious that I might have been involved with the conspiracy, then he was free to attack me. He did say that he wanted to practice his sword-fighting skills besides his language skills right? Well, I was ready to give him a free lesson and a permanent place at the great swordsman academy in the sky, where a lot of other famous people were training, like Lord Bridwell or King Camaron, Lhotun's father who died in battle with Bridwell, or Gaiden Shinji among many others. I heard they were always accepting new members. I however, had no current interest in joining.

Before Ah-Malz could say anything in reply, we both heard the pitter-patter of little feet on the wet cave floor. There were quite a lot of them and most of them were coming this way. It seemed that the goblins had returned with a vengeance. As soon as he heard movement, Ah-Malz drew his claymore and barred his teeth in a savage way. The Argonian was truly frightening when angered. He lowered himself into a fighting stance. I drew my blade as well in a quick fluid motion and entered a passive fighting stance I liked, from which one could flow intuitively into both attack and defense. I looked at Ah-Malz and he looked at me back, throwing me a quick wink followed by his beastly smile. That was quite unexpected. It seemed Ah-Malz was catching the local habits quicker than I imagined. It seemed that, for the moment, we had become unlikely allies.

"You watch my back, I'll take care of them." Ah-Malz said as he went right in front of the passage from which the sounds were coming.

"Sure. If you slaughtered them so badly on your own, imagine what the two of us will do!" I said as I looked around warily at the side passages. Despite not saying it openly, I was ready to aid Ah-Malz in fighting off the brunt of the goblins as well.

"This is time to practice sword, not language." Ah-Malz said, clearly showing his concentration. He did not even look at me when he spoke. "This time they are better prepared. Their armour is weak at throat and beneath arm."

"I'll remember that." I said quietly, more to myself than to Ah-Malz.

We could hear the goblins approaching. Their inhuman squeaks and growls along with some of the goblins' awful snickering echoed through the cave, creating an awfully demoralizing atmosphere. Ah-Malz however looked like he couldn't care less. From the stony look on his face, probably even the Daedra of Oblivion couldn't scare him before a battle. Soon enough, the fiends appeared. They stopped at the mouth of the passage from which they came. They were, as Ah-Malz said, much more better prepared than they were when he first came. Most of them wore some sort of armour now. Some had breastplates over torn mail hauberks while some had armour made of bones or wood-planks. It was quite crude yet effective. Just as Ah-Malz said, they had no armour so to speak of below the arm, at the arm-pits to be exact, and at the neck. Some of them had head protection like leather caps or helmets yet some had none so the head was also a viable target in some cases. The goblins seemed surprised that there were now two of us. They didn't quite seem to expect it. With those being said, there was nothing left to do than engage in combat.

"Pay-back time."
~~~
I hoped you liked this update for all the Argonian-lovers in you.

Definitely a solid pair of updates Griff. I really enjoyed the hopeless feeling conveyed during his capture and the interaction between Arthago and Ah was quite interesting to read. Definitely a neat character you got there.

Goody. I love that scaly fisherman already!


Also, I'm a bit surprised that Arthago has all of his armour again. I was under the impression he was forced to leave most behind in his room during his rather rushed escape. Still nice though, I missed that steel.

No, he fit on whatever parts he could (realistically, you can't really fit on a suit of plate armour if you don't have an arming vest, since most parts of the armour are manually tied and attached to the vest. I wanted to give my story somewhat more realism than basic TES pseudo-realism) during the little time he had and he took the rest in a sack, which he already had even before he arrived in Taneth. If you remember, he packed his armour after leaving that backwater town they slept in on the way to Rihad. He had it packed in Taneth as well so it was really a matter of picking up the pack and taking it along. I made no mention of it however since I thought it was unnecessary.

After some absence I return once more! Enjoy the update.

~~~
The goblins seemed to be watching Ah-Malz, in awe that one individual had killed so many of their brood. By the way he looked, all arrayed in steel and scales, one could almost say that he was a half-breed, the son of a dragon of old. He was a regular being however, as much as I was and nothing separated him from me or the goblins we were fighting, except maybe his exceptional skill with the sword. The Argonian stood and locked the goblins at the mouth of the passage with his stony gaze, and they stood as if mesmerized. After a few moments however, he charged. Frightened by his sudden outburst and the ferocity of his sprint, two of the goblins somewhat backed away yet Ah-Malz, with his great-sword, simultaneously beheaded the two of them before they could run. The third goblin ducked and managed to avoid the whirling blade, yet Ah-Malz quickly kicked him over the head after dispatching his two brethren. As the goblin fell on his back, the rest of his kin standing at the mouth of the passage pulled him by the arms back to his feet. Despite their savagery, these goblins had a sense of camaraderie rarely found in mere beasts. Perhaps there was more to them than met the eye? This was not a time to ponder the fauna of Tamriel however. Our lives were at stake and we would have to fight off a whole goblin clan if we wished to survive.

"Watch the side!" Ah-Malz shouted, so as to be heard over the anxious screams and snickering of the foul goblins.

Silence suddenly enveloped the room however. Had the goblins backed down? I quickly glanced towards the passage but I could see only darkness beyond the foreboding entrance. Suddenly however, the goblins all charged inside, gathering their strength and their courage. Ah-Malz seemed to be momentarily overwhelmed as he took on more goblins than even his skill allowed. Using that to their advantage, several goblins scurried past Ah-Malz and surrounding me. They had a look of blood lust in their eyes as they looked me over. Their anger however was also mixed with some fear, seeing as now I was free to move around. Seeing as I had no time to fit on my armour, I would have to fight unarmoured. This wasn't really to my disadvantage however, seeing as it allowed me to use a more acrobatic style of fighting.

The fiends slowly encircled me as I raised my scimitar. None of them seemed willing however to commence fighting, to make the first move. I decided to make the first move in their stead, seeing as they were having second-thoughts. It was never a very wise idea to permanently stay on the defensive, seeing as it gave your opponent a chance to overwhelm you. Ah-Malz was a good example of always staying on the offensive. Despite the fact that he was surrounded by blood-thirsty goblins, I could see him swinging his blade in a seemingly wild manner, with little to no precision. The Argonian's moves were more than met the eye however, merely an illusion of chaos underneath a series of well-trained moves specially designed for fighting against groups of enemies. I had little time to admire the Argonian's fighting style however, seeing as I had opponents of my own.

Quickly charging one of the goblins, I feigned a strike towards his side while quickly turning my blade to the other side of his body and slashing him across the face. My strike left a bloody gash running diagonally along the goblin's face, from his right brow to the left-side of his jaw. As the goblin backed away surprised, little more than its adrenaline holding it on its feet for a few more agonizing seconds, I quickly turned to face the goblins which were now attacking me. Not wanting to back away into the mass of goblins Ah-Malz was fighting, I spun into the group of goblins, swinging my sword while I was at it. My move seemed to surprise the goblins which merely walked into my spinning blade. I slashed two of my opponents across the throat while cutting a third goblin's head clean off. As I spun out of my pirouette I felt slightly dazed yet there were now three less goblins to worry about. Since my move had its own risks however, I also received several bruises from the crude maces and clubs the goblins were carrying.

Only two goblins now stood before me, one of them carrying an axe and a wooden shield while the other had a club and a worn mail coif. Some of the links in the mail were so rusted that one pinch of the finger could force them out of place. A good swing from my sword could probably split the coif in half. Grinning slightly as I eyed my opponents over, I advanced once more, taking the initiative. One of the goblins however surprised me by hurling himself towards me, almost knocking me to the ground. As I staggered back I could feel a sharp pain in my left shoulder from the goblin's club. As I staggered, I tripped on a rock and fell on one of my knees. The rock which made up the floor was rough and probably bruised my knee. The goblin seemed to chuckle as he watched my predicament. Before I rose back to my full height however, I lashed out with a backhanded strike that disemboweled the creature.

"Who's laughing now?" I asked in a mocking way as I saw the goblin writhe in pain on the cold floor of the cave. I quickly turned my gaze to the remaining goblin however who had circled to my side.

He lunged much like his comrade yet now I was ready. As he pounced I sidestepped and my blade lanced into his unarmoured side, leaving a deep gash from which blood flowed freely. The goblin looked back to me as it staggered back, trying to distance itself from me. Seeing it suffer, I decided to put it out of its misery. As I closed on the goblin I did a pirouette and brought my scimitar down upon the goblin's neck, beheading it. Its helmeted head hit the rocky floor with a loud clang.

As I turned back I could see that Ah-Malz was still surrounded by several goblins, seven at most, yet he had slain many of the beasts, which were lying in heaps at his feet. He had been wounded however. A goblin had stuck a dirk in his leg and the wound was now bleeding. It did not seem to phase the Argonian however, who fought on with unending stamina. Turning about, he put all the weight of his body into a powerful slash which cut a goblin in half at the waist. As blood flew it hit both Ah-Malz and the other goblins, making them all look like something out of a nightmare. I decided to help the Argonian.

Going to his side, I hammered at a goblin's wooden shield until its armed seemed to loose all vigour. As the goblin's strength slowly faltered, I drew back my scimitar and passed it to my right hand. Grabbing the goblin's sword-arm with my left hand, I held it in place while I thrust my scimitar through its neck. I could feel the beast's blood on my face yet I went on, slaying another one of the foul beasts which was trying to go behind Ah-Malz.

Somewhat surprised by seeing, Ah-Malz almost let off a thrust in my direction but he soon realized who he was trying to strike. After a moment in which he acknowledged my presence he turned and cornered three goblins. Using wide-strokes of his sword, he clumped all three goblins together with their backs to a stalagmite. Once together, he crouched and, with one powerful strike, hewed the goblins' legs clean off. Leaving them wriggling on the floor in pain, he turned back to me. He didn't seem to pay much attention to the suffering of the creatures.

"Vilgefortz fight well." He said with nothing more than a slight grin. He tried not to bare his teeth too much. That was certainly an improvement in my book.

Ah-Malz was cut short however by a fireball which flew close to his head. As we both ducked, I looked towards the passage from which the fireball came. Soon enough, something that looked like a female goblin appeared. She was holding a staff made of gnarled wood in her old leathery hands. In truth, I had never seen a more grotesque creature before in my life. The smell of the female goblin soon made me forget its appearance however.

"Goblin Shaman. They flick spells at us, so are careful."

Before I could reply, the sound of a tell-tale spell being cast echoed through the cave. When I turned to look back I saw that an animated corpse missing a head and half an arm was now standing besides the Shaman. It seemed that the hag had summoned reinforcements in the place of her slain kin. By the way Ah-Malz stared at the creature, it seemed he had met and killed their kind before. Grabbing me by the arm, he led me behind a large boulder near the passage.

"I kill Shaman, you kill zombie. Good plan?" Ah-Malz asked in his stunted Tamrielic.

"How do I kill something that's already dead?" I asked in a rather confused way. I had never killed a reanimated corpse before. I had heard stories from some of the knights in the Order however. From the tales and rumours, these monsters were awfully hard to slay, seeing as they felt no pain and had no fear.

"Swing until it fall."

Ah-Malz really had a simple philosophy when it came to life and sword-fighting. Hopefully, he had a somewhat better and more coherent plan for killing the Shaman than 'swing until it dies' or something of the like. As I gritted my teeth I rose from the boulder, ready to take on the undead monster that was guarding the Shaman. Ah-Malz did the same, circling to the side of the fearsome Shaman and her undead guardian. As the goblin matriarch looked towards both me and Ah-Malz, she seemed confused. That seemed to be exactly what Ah-Malz was looking for. Taking advantage of the beast's confusion, Ah-Malz attacked, swinging his blade furiously. He didn't really wait for me to attack the zombie. Either he had a lot of trust placed in me or he had a death-wish. Judging by his previous actions, it was probably a bit of both.

Seeing that he was getting surrounded by both the Shaman and the zombie forced me to act. Running towards the zombie I raked my scimitar across its back. It felt almost like trying to cut spoiled meat which was hard and stringy. The creature turned around and I could almost feel it staring at me with the eyes it didn't have. I stood with a dumbfounded look on my face, not sure what to do. That strike would have felled even a burly man but it seemed that the monster was unaffected. Reaching back for momentum, the zombie struck me across the face with a stinging backhanded punch.

Surprised by the power of the monster, I almost dropped my sword as I staggered back. My head was throbbing from the pain but I couldn't back down now. I raised my scimitar once more with grim determination, looking at the zombie as it stalked towards me, one step at a time. Moving towards it, I swung my sword towards its chest. The strike slashed across the monster's chest yet it continued its approach. It once more drew back to strike yet now I dodged its blow, moving beneath its strike. As I rose once more I struck the creature several times with my sword yet it seemed to have little effect. Turning around and focusing its weight into its elbow, it tried to hit me again. I ducked however and tried to sever its leg. The flesh was so tough however that my scimitar got stuck in it. Desperately trying to pull my blade free, I looked up and saw as the zombie was preparing to strike me in the head. If the blow managed to connect it would either kill me or leave me in a coma. Neither of those was an interesting prospect.

Seeing as I couldn't pull my scimitar free, I kicked the monster hard in one of its legs. The blow was strong enough to make the zombie trip and fall on its back. As it was on the ground, I rose to my full height and kicked it hard in its short stubby neck, seeking to drive my boot through the creature's flesh. The hit was powerful yet it only served in getting my foot stuck in the zombie's flesh as well. With one of its hands, the undead monster grabbed me by the leg and pulled me down as well. While we were both down on the stony floor, I saw that my scimitar was tantalizingly close to me. Grabbing it with both hands as the zombie prepared for a punch aimed at my temple, I pulled once more with all my strength. After a moment in which it seemed the blade would not budge, I finally felt it free in my hands once more. The frustrating thing however was that the zombie had no head to strike. What pleasure I would have felt sinking either my blade or my boot into the monster's foul head.

Making due with what I had at hand however, I turned from my belly to my back as I was standing over the zombie, fighting against the tight grasp it had on my leg. Seeing its hand coming down on me for one last blow, I swung my scimitar at the same time with all my strength. Hoping against hope, I saw my blade connect with the undead monster's hand, hacking it clean off. No blood appeared yet I shouted with satisfaction as I saw half of the zombie's hand fall on the cold floor. Wrenching free from the grasp the creature had on my leg, I quickly clambered back to my feet. Seeing that the zombie was still on the ground I slashed my blade its other arm, cutting off several of its bony fingers. I now finally realized what Ah-Malz had meant. It seemed that the more body parts I hacked off, the more the zombie weakened.

Looking towards the gash my scimitar had left in the zombie's leg, I raised my blade once more and brought it down upon the rotten flesh of the monster's leg. I heard a sickening crack as the bone in the creature's leg broke. Seeing as it was now limp and unable to walk, I turned back to Ah-Malz. He was fighting with the Shaman much as I had been fighting with the zombie, grappling with her and trying to slit her throat with his dagger. Ah-Malz's great-sword was lying on the floor of the cavern, not far from the place the two were battling, the Shaman with her staff, Ah-Malz with his trusty dagger.

I soon saw why Ah-Malz had dropped his main weapon however. As the two were grappling, trying to knock each other to the ground, a bolt of lightning flew from the tip of the Shaman's staff, hitting the ceiling of the rocky chamber. The Shaman must have managed to hit Ah-Malz's sword with a lightning bolt, thus knocking it out of his hands.

Approaching the struggling pair, I shouted to Ah-Malz. He quickly turned his head, moving it out of the way of another lightning bolt at the last moment. As he looked at me, I threw him my blade so he could use it to finish off the old goblin hag. Wrenching free of the Shaman's hold by thrusting his dagger into one of her hands, Ah-Malz caught my scimitar as it flew through the air and, turning with a pirouette, beheaded the hag with one swift motion.

Seeing as the battle was finally over and that the whole goblin clan had been annihilated in the process, I approached Ah-Malz and returned him his great-sword. In an act of courtesy, he returned mine as well, with the blood of the goblin Shaman still on the blade. I thanked him and he nodded, sitting on a rock to rest. He seemed to be tired. In truth, so was I. A long battle like the one we had just fought usually was an exhausting affair. Sweat poured down my brow yet Ah-Malz had none so to speak off. The fact that he was an Argonian must have explained it, since as far as I knew lizards couldn't sweat.

"You do like to hack things' heads off don't you?" I asked with a chuckle. It really was odd seeing the hulking Argonian weaving around the goblins, hewing their necks off as he went ever-so gracefully.

"If head-cut kill Black Marsh fish, it kill goblin."

"So true." I said with a smile as I lied down on the rock floor in exhaustion. "At the end of the day, knowing you've killed off a whole goblin clan. Not too bad eh?"

"What is meaning of 'at end of day'?" Ah-Malz asked, seemingly bewildered. I had almost forgotten he was a foreigner who knew little of the Tamrielic language. I was sorry I couldn't speak with him in his native tongue, so as to shatter all barriers between us. Until he learned how to better speak Tamrielic however, I had little hope of having a real conversation with him.

"I still have a lot to teach you." I said with a sigh and a slight feeling of frustration. At the end of the day however, it really was good to know you've just exterminated a whole clan of goblins intent on kidnapping and eating people. And it didn't look too bad on one's resume either.
~~~
I hope you've liked this come-back update of sorts.

I liked the fight, honestly. Mostly because of how you manage to describe Ah-Malz fighting style. Berserker without the mad rage and loss of sensibility.

The next thing I found interesting is how the Goblins actually put up quite a fight when it came down to it. While mostly because of their numbers, it is still unusual to see goblins (excluding Mournhold goblins) retaliate that well.

And of course, we slipped back to another broken conversation after the killing. Love those.

Now that we have that, let's hope Arthago remembers the zombie-busting trick later on. Don't go for the torso or the head, go for the limbs.

Peanuts, my friends!

~~~
After saying my farewells to Ah-Malz, who may or may not have understood them entirely, I went on my own path, towards Rihad. If I was to be a knight-errant, I was now a haggard one, with not even a horse to his name. The only objects I currently had were the clothes on my back, my scimitar, my packed armour and the money given to me for my various expenses. If I was to call out in front of the gates of Rihad that I was a knight, I was very liable to be taken for a common sellsword trying to make a fool out of the guards. Of course, I was intent on appearing to be more than a simple mercenary, if I was to be noticed so as to infiltrate king Sorian's royal court.

For the time being however, I had no horse seeing as I was unable to leave the city mounted on my own horse. Knowing Clavilla, my horse was probably being butchered by a knacker that very moment. Also knowing Clavilla and her rage however, companies of Taneth guardsmen were probably searching for me as I walked the roads leading to Rihad.

Ever the cautious one, I decided that it might be wiser if I were to try to keep more to the wooded sides of the roads, so as to avoid being spotted by any ill-meaning onlookers. Seeing as my two companions were also no longer with me, one of them gone while the other was captured by the Taneth guards, I no longer had anything remotely similar to a retinue of my own. Another thing that would lessen me in the eyes of the Rihad nobles.

The terrain was craggy and covered by decrepit fallen leaves which made it harder to navigate through the uneven terrain. Until I reached Rihad however, I would have to act the fugitive. Knowing at the same time that a bounty hunter and two Nordic trackers were hunting me, didn't make me feel any safer. Using the roads meant sure capture at the hands of the city guards while travelling through the forest meant sure death at the hands of the bounty hunter. I was prepared to take my chances with the bounty hunter however, seeing as he was only one man whereas in a squadron of guards there were more than ten.

My path through the woods slowly brought me to clearing. It was rather large and not far from the road but the only sounds which were floating in the air were those of birds idly chirping and the wind rustling through the trees. It seemed like a tranquil place, and it would have been...were it nor for the man in the middle of it. I found him sitting on a long forgotten tree stump jutting out of the ground, seemingly forgotten himself. The sword in his lap showed that he meant business however, and what a sword it was! It was a greatsword, yet sheathed in its scabbard as it was, I could only judge it by the craft laid into the making of its hilt and pommel. The pommel was made of finely polished steel which seemed to gleam in the sun while the hilt was of leather. The man was tall and clad in black from head to toe, yet he wore no armour so to speak off.

A long cape extended from his shoulders to the ground, and by the many tears in it it was well-worn. It was also muddied at the base, were it sometimes brushed the ground. As the man gazed at me, I could feel piercing blue eyes almost looking through me. He turned and rose from the stump, to his full height. We remained silent for a few moments as we seemed to size each other up. From the look of him, the man was a Breton. An exceptionally tall Breton, slightly taller than Beomir, but a Breton all the same.

"You must be the fugitive knight. I greet you Vilamon...or should I call you Arthago?" the man said with an eerie voice, low as a growl. His tone was menacing.

"And you must be the famed bounty hunter." I said, trying not to appear frightened, despite the fact that this man more than unnerved me.

"That is very astute of you...yet we are not here to exchange niceties. Show me your steel Redguard." the man hissed as he drew his blade from its scabbard. The greatsword gleamed in the sunlight, almost as long as I was tall. It was indeed of fine make, with a sharp edge.

"You've not even told me your name, and already you're trying to kill me?" I asked, trying to appear defiant. If this man was hellbent on slaying me, then I could at least annoy him before actually engaging in combat.

"My name is Oakheart for those who would know but you aren't one to be interested in my services. And I have tried to kill you before. Do you think it mere chance that you were abducted by the goblins and almost eaten before that oaf of an Argonian saved you by chance? Make no mistake however, I intend to finish what the goblins failed."

"You're not really one for conversation, are you?" I said as I drew my scimitar, holding it in my right hand.

"And you're not one to fight openly are you?" Oakheart said with a stinging tone. The man seemed never to smile. Men like that always unnerved me.

"Ladies first." I said with a forced smile. The man stared at me with a stony glare.

"You seem to be quick of tongue. Blades cut deeper than words however."

"Try me." I said with grim determination as I faced the towering bounty hunter.

Oakheart started to slowly circle to my side, closing the distance all the while. I did the same as he did yet in the opposite direction. Eventually, one of us would have to make the first move and commence combat. With an opponent such as this however I had to be on my guard. I never knew what tricks he might have under his sleeve. Or in his overly adorned belt for the matter. Several small phials were sheathed in his belt, to make them more accessible during heated combat apparently.

As he approached me more and more, the bounty hunter started slowly raising his sword to a battle-ready position. I did the same thing, yet his blade had far greater reach than mine. That was a great disadvantage in combat. If I could successfully close the distance however, I could turn my weakness into my strength. Longer swords were unwieldy at close quarters, unlike shorter blades like my own scimitar which was somewhat more catered to close combat. The bounty hunter had a look in his eyes, however, that seemed to say Your next move will be your last.

Before we could cross blades properly, however, we heard a stringent cry coming from the road. As I quickly turned to look, I could see several men on horseback approaching the clearing. When they finally entered I could see by their heraldry that they were men of Taneth, guardsmen by the look of them. They all seemed thoroughly surprised at seeing me and the bounty hunter ready to fight each other. The bounty hunter fixed them with that grim stare of his.

"What be the meaning of this?" one of the guards asked, a fat Imperial with an unkempt mustache.

"My name is Leo Oakheart and I've been commissioned by the Queen of Taneth herself to hunt down this fugitive. You will not stop me from bringing him in bounds back to Taneth." The bounty hunter said, rather angry that he had been interrupted.

"You're the bounty hunter eh? No wonder people get scared at the mere mention of your name Oakheart. The fugitive is going with us however. No sellsword like you is snatching our prize." The fat Imperial replied arrogantly. I seemed to be in luck.

"You wretches can barely lift your swords, let alone capture and subdue this fellow. He's mine, and you'd do best to leave this to me. This is the work of a bounty hunter, not drunken guardsmen like you." His hateful words were met only by the guards' loud laughter.

"You seem to forget, master Oakheart, that you are alone while there are four of us." The Imperial did have a point. The bounty hunter was alone and, whatever his skill, it was unlikely that he could take on four mounted men and win.

"You seem to have forgotten your place. I haven't followed this mark all the way from Taneth, only to have him taken by you at this point, after all my efforts. These are the seeds of my work that you're sowing." Trying to remind the guardsmen of their honour seemed like a bad course of action in my eyes however. Some of them started reaching for their swords as they stood witness to the bounty hunter's stubbornness.

"As a peasant sows, so does a noble reap. Stand aside bounty hunter." The fat guardsman said, trying to intimidate Oakheart. He didn't seem like a man to be easily intimidated however.

"You leave me no choice. If I'm to step over several corpses to fulfill my assignment, I would gladly step over yours, Imperial." Oakheart said, obvious scorn for the guardsmen in his words. Despite his grim demeanour and ways, I could discern some honour in the bounty hunter, something I found completely lacking in the guardsmen.

"Let's put this bast-"

The Imperial guardsman's insults were cut short, literally, by the bounty hunter's greatsword slicing through his throat. The other guardsmen, surprised and in awe at the bounty hunter's daring, were slow to act. One of them drew his sword and rode towards Oakheart while the others seemed to have forgotten they even had swords at their sides. The bounty hunter stood defiantly as the guardsman galloped towards him, sword raised and ready to strike Oakheart down. Oakheart stood like this, unmoving, until the very last moment when he quickly sidestepped the charging horse and severed its hind legs with a low slash of his greatsword. The horse came tumbling down, with the guardsman along it. The bounty hunter only completed a simple formality afterwards by going to the guardsman, who had been crushed under his horse, and thrusting his blade through his throat.

As blood gushed from the dead guardsman's neck, Oakheart turned to face the remaining two riders who had ridden away a short distance so as to gather their momentum for a charge. Against a single charging horse he might have stood a chance, but against two his plight was hopeless. In an incredible access of selfless courage, however, I saw myself running to the horse of the fat Imperial guardsman and vaulting into his place on the saddle. Thus mounted, I raised my scimitar and galloped towards the two guardsmen. As they saw me coming, one of them rode off to charge Oakheart while the other started galloping towards me. I kept my horse steady as I galloped towards the guardsman and he seemed to do the same with his horse. I held my blade high at my side while my opponent seemed to be preparing his own weapon for a whirling slash that would probably take my head off. Unarmoured as I was, I was extremely vulnerable yet I prepared my last minute tactics on the assumption that the guardsman would swing his blade high, aiming at my neck.

As both our horses galloped towards each other, I braced for impact, seemingly raising my own blade for a high slash, much like my opponent. I could almost see his smile as we neared each other. As soon as he started his swing however, I quickly lowered myself in the saddle, almost leaning down on my horse's neck, and slashed low across his stomach. I could feel my blade making contact as it cut across his side, spraying his blood across the ground as he fell from his saddle in pain.

Slowing my horse to a trot, I found that my little burst of mindless fearlessness had cost me. The guardsman's sword had cut me across the shoulder, dangerously close to my neck. Much as I expected, Oakheart was standing in front of me with another dead guardsman at his feet. This time however, he had spared the horse, merely unhorsing the rider. A sturdy blow from that greatsword of his could probably unhorse even a knight in full armour. As I rode up next to him, the bounty hunter gave me one of his usual looks yet this time it was somewhat different. I could also see the corner of his mouth slightly arching up, as if in a smile, yet I wasn't sure what that grimace meant.

"You've won your freedom for today. Go now, but remember that I will still follow you until either of us dies or the bounty on your head is annulled. Unless you are royalty however, I find that unlikely." The bounty hunter said, this time in a somewhat more respectful voice. I found myself smiling, even though I planned on not showing any particular emotion.

"You never know."
~~~
With that, ends this update which features a character that Mallet might find familiar.

That was interesting.

Though it does raise questions. What did he mean with the goblins? Did he hand over Arthago to them? He seems like the type who prefers to do the deed himself though and he's probably as good as Ah-Malz, if not better. So...why was Arthago left as Goblin-food?

Ah well, perhaps we'll find out during the next meeting.

I'm glad you liked the last update and the introduction of the bounty hunter. And to explain a little since Metal Mallet has failed to reveal how he knows of this character, Leo Oakheart isn't merely a secondary character in this story. Since you too are a member of TES Fiction Jack, I point you to this thread. It surely explains more than I could.

Linky: http://www.tesfiction.proboards102.com/ind...&thread=211

But enough shameless plugs! Let's get on with the story.

~~~
After the chance meeting with the bounty hunter and the clash with the Taneth guards, I continued on the road to Rihad, this time on horseback. With that aspect of my image as a knight repaired, all I needed now was to reach the city and meet my contact. Said contact was, from Lhotun's word, a man infiltrated in king Sorian's court as a lowly courtier. From him I would get all the information I required so as to infiltrate the royal court of Rihad and reap havoc. I was disappointed however that I no longer had my two companions. Beomir wasn't really one for diplomacy but he had the cunning of a eunuch while Belwin didn't seem impressive outwardly but had great skill with the College of Illusion, a very potent type of magic if used properly. On my own, I was nothing more than a travelling warrior but together with them, I could have been mistaken for a lesser lord seeking king Sorian's favour.

For the time being however, I was content that I had a horse and that I was making good time to Rihad. As night started falling, I could see its great walls looming in front of me. Rihad was on the very southern edge of Hammerfell, close to the Cyrodiilic border. Knowing I was so close to a foreign province gave me goose-bumps. I had never travelled to any other province, except that ill-fated voyage to Daggerfall when I returned to Sentinel to find the city under siege. The notion of travelling to such an exotic land as Cyrodiil was currently out of my agenda, but with a man like Lhotun as my master, who knew were the future would take me? If I was lucky, I could probably end up with a patch of land to my name. If not, I could end up as an ambassador in some far away Nordic kingdom.

As I rode slowly towards the city however, the words of the bounty hunter kept coming to mind. I tried not to think about it, yet one way or another I always ended up thinking about what I could do the next time I met the bounty hunter. Fighting him seemed like the plainest option, yet he had great skill and even greater reach with that two-handed sword of his. If there was one thing I didn't like, it was fighting with long shafted weapons like spears or, to a smaller extent, greatswords. There was however the option of canceling my bounty. That was unlikely however, at least in the bounty hunter's eyes since I wasn't royalty. If I could speak to Lhotun though, I may have a chance of canceling the bounty on my head. Either that or surrendering to Clavilla of my own will. The latter choice however meant certain death.

It was clear that I was getting closer to the Imperial Province by the increasing patrols of the Imperial Legion that I met. It seemed surprising, now in retrospect, that the bloody skirmish I had in the woods with the Taneth guardsmen wasn't seen or heard by any passing legionnaires. As I thanked the Divines for granting me the luck of escaping, I neared the gates of the city. They were well-manned by guardsmen wearing the coat of arms of Rihad on their tunics, each and every one of them holding either a bow or a halberd in their hands. In case of an attack, the city wouldn't be easy to conquer. Lhotun had given me precise instructions of only infiltrating the king's court however. His instructions expressly forbid any involvement which was military in nature. Simply having a brawl with some Rihad guardsmen and revealing myself as a man of Sentinel was enough so as to be considered military provocation in the eyes of some rulers. I didn't really know what king Sorian was like, but from Lhotun's words he seemed like a decent king.

He was known to have one legitimate son who was, at seventeen years of age, the sole heir of the kingdom and at least two other illegitimate children, a son and a daughter. The son was almost nineteen years old and the daughter was of little consequence. In Hammerfell, unlike in other provinces, it was rather frowned upon to have bastards since it was considered as a stain on the honour of you family. Sorian however, was more open-minded about certain taboos of Redguard culture. In an unprecedented move, he even allowed his first illegitimate child a place at court alongside his father, sometimes acting as an adviser.

If it was true, then I was eager to meet this who would challenge so many traditions, merely to have one of his sons next to him. The thoughts of king Sorian soon passed from my mind as I entered the gates of Rihad, however. After paying to toll for passing into the city, along with a group of merchants, I made my way towards the tavern where I would meet my contact in the city. Even as dusk came into being, flooding the whole city with blood-red rays of light, I could still see that Rihad was a city with traditional Redguard architecture, despite its Forebear status. While making my way to the tavern, I also caught a glimpse of the famous Rihad concubine market, a great expanse of covered stalls and buildings which served only one use. I had not come to Rihad for the whores however, I had come with politics in mind. I would discover to my surprise though that the aforementioned elements often mix freely, at least in Rihad.

My contact was a pale-eyed man, tall and gaunt. The fact that he was cleanly-shaved only sharpened his features. He looked at me with those pale eyes of his, eying me as soon as I entered the tavern. Oddly enough, he was an Imperial. This was the first time I had ever met an Imperial working for Lhotun yet I suspected that it was not my last time. Much as his faction, Lhotun was always open to new ideas yet paid attention to Redguard tradition at the same time. It was my faction in name only, I knew very well that he controlled all of it yet I did not voice any displeasure, neither publicly nor privately. In truth, I cared little for his organization since Lhotun used it more like a group of enforcers to do his bidding. As the figurehead of these enforcers, I was now doing a great job. Taneth had been well shaken, it was now Rihad's turn.

"Great weather we're having this time of year eh?" The Imperial asked, trying to appear innocent. In truth, it was his password. I would have to answer properly if I wanted to convince him that I was the man he was looking for.

"The rains will wash away all rust." I said, trying to keep a serious face with an innocent voice at the same time. The Imperial smiled.

"It's great to finally meet you Arthago. Or, should I call you Vilamon?" The Imperial asked with a sly smile.

"At least while I'm in Rihad. How did you know my cover name however?"

"A mysterious Breton came in town recently, looking for a certain fellow who goes by the names of Vilamon and Arthago. That was all I could find out however. I don't think I've ever seen a more uptight man all my life." The Imperial said in an almost trivial manner.

"Was he by chance tall? With piercing blue eyes?" I asked as my face slowly went pale. Well, as pale as a Redguard can get.

"Aye, and with a sword almost as menacing as his attire. All clad in black he was. Safe to say, people all gave him a wide berth." The Imperial said as he looked at me intently, "Is there any problem?"

"I met such a man on the road to Rihad, yet I don't know how he could have overtaken me." I said, trying to mask my fear and replace it with mere surprise at the fact that the man had beaten me to Rihad. The Imperial gave me a knowing look and nodded.

"I sense there is more to this matter than you choose to reveal. Your words might say something, yet your eyes give me a very different message. Something tells me that the sharp end of that bloke's sword is meant for your throat." The Imperial said, speaking softly so as not to be heard, "You will find, Arthago, that Rihad is a dangerous place and it is good to have staunch friends in dangerous places. Men like myself, if I might say so. Severus Scaevola, at your service Sir Arthago. I can assure you that I can be trusted with many secrets."

"You seem to be quite astute when it comes to reading the expression of a liar," I said with a sour grin. "And I can assure you that I can be trusted to holding a man to his oath. Even a king." There was something about the Imperial's smile that somewhat unnerved me, much like the bounty hunter's lack of a smile. It was the smile of a cunning man who couldn't be trusted.

"Then your retribution must truly be terrible to witness. I am sure the late king Sosscan of Bergame can testify to that." Severus said with one more sly grin. Sosscan was the king that I had tortured and killed after finding out that he was indirectly behind the death of Marshal Daron. "But I would have no reason to fear you, as long as I am faithful to both you and your liege-lord King Lhotun."

"That is correct. I have found to my disadvantage however that men involved in politics rarely keep their given word, be it of their own choice or forced by the whims of others. I know however, and trust, in my King's ability to gather men of great skill and loyalty around. Especially the latter." I said as I patted Severus on the shoulder. "Enough of this grim talk however. Tell me about the affairs of king Sorian. I wish to know everything of his court and of his courtiers. Last of all, I wish to infiltrate his court and become one of his most trusted courtiers, so that I may ease this city's fall afterwards."

"Cruel words from one who would value honour and loyalty so much." Severus commented as he sipped from a mug of ale he had at hand. He invited me to sit down at a table and ordered a drink for me.

"I value loyalty and honour, yet only loyalty for my lord, King Lhotun. Loyalty for others, I have very little. Honour, even less so. At least, that is what I have come to find." I said, somewhat saddened, as I thought about the many dishonourable things I was forced to do in Lhotun's service.

"Very well then. I am of the same school of thought, Sir Arthago," Severus said with a slight bow of his head. After telling him to call me solely by name, he went on. "If you would wish to know about the affairs of the realm, and about all the lords, great and small, that make up the king's court, I would gladly tell all there is to know. By far, the king holds supreme power in the realm. The people respect him while his nobles find him to be a just ruler, if somewhat harsh at times. Sorian treats loyal subjects well, and his friends even better, but he reserves right of judgement when dealing with traitors to the realm and those who offend him or his family. Regarding his family, he has one legitimate son and two other base-born children whom he cares for greatly. His legitimate son and heir, Rhaenor, is a hot-headed seventeen-year-old who is brash in all his affairs. He is currently in a dispute of sorts with his father regarding a tournament in Elinhir he was not allowed to participate in."

"A great amount of information from someone who is only a lowly member of the court." I said with a slight grin. Severus frowned at the notion of being a lesser member of the king's court.

"Be that as it may, let me continue for there is much more to know. As I said, the king has his common-born children close to heart, unlike many rulers who do not even have knowledge of their many bastards. The son, Lucan, is very different from his half-brother. He is much more quiet and mindful of his surroundings. Pertaining to his father's decisions he never has any bold remarks to make, unlike his younger half-brother, nor any complaints. He just accepts them without even flinching. His father loves him well, yet none of the nobles accept his presence at court. They accept him only because of his father, since any insult brought to Lucan is considered an insult to Sorian. I believe I've already told you how Sorian deals with those who insult him or his family." Severus said, sometimes pausing to drink from his mug or belch. I found it impressive that he could keep so many small details intact and relay them with little pause.

"The girl does not concern my affairs. Go on with Sorian's personal retinue and court." I said with a rather blunt voice. Severus simply emptied his mug then continued. It seemed that he was instructed to accept most of my commands.

"Well, let's just say the king is rather open-minded when it comes to his retinue. He keeps a mute man as a bodyguard and an exile from Wayrest as one of his closest counselors on most matters." Severus said plainly.

"A Breton at the court of a Redguard king? That is truly unheard of." I said, surprised at what I heard. Severus kept a straight face however. He seemed to be used with the surprise visitors in Rihad had at hearing about the exiled Breton advising the Redguard king.

"Oh, but Sir Conrad Hornwood is truly flesh and bone. Actually, I think he would take offense at your doubting the fact that he can handle his position at court. He's been serving the king for some time now, a close counselor on most affairs, both personal and concerning the state. Most nobles frown upon his presence yet, as I've said, Sir Conrad has won their grudging acceptance through both skill at arms and the favour he has with the king. I'm sure, however, that the nobles would gladly slit his throat given the opportunity. Also, remember that these are Redguard nobles we are speaking of. These men have trained from infancy in the art of combat and I can assure you, from the duels I've seen, that they are all quite proficient when it comes to skill at arms. Sir Hornwood himself has fought a few of them in duels, I'm sure he could have a lot to tell you." Severus said, ending his sentence with one of his knowing smiles. "The mute man who guards the king with his life is one of those Redguard nobles who fought Sir Hornwood in his early days. He was sharp of tongue, slandering Sir Hornwood's heritage and calling him a pauper knight come to Rihad to beg at king Sorian's table. Surely enough, Sir Conrad took offense and proved to most of the nobles at court that he was a force to be reckoned with. Before fighting Wayn, for that is the noble's name, Sir Conrad made a wager with him. If he won, he would cut off Wayn's tongue for all his insults. If Wayn won, Sir Conrad's life was forfeit. We all know what happened afterwards."

"That is all fine and well, yet my goal is to infiltrate the court itself, not only to hear about the people who make it up. I suppose you cannot help me directly with this task." I said with a rather pessimistic tone. I was used, by now, to be sent around on errands instead of cutting to the head of the matter. It was at this point that Severus' limited position revealed itself.

"Well, I am in a predicament with some nobles." Severus said as his eyes glanced around the tavern, somewhat embarrassed, "That situation will end however, sooner or later. I know just the man you need to talk to however."

Seeing his grin as he said those words instantly made me realize that what he was about to propose wouldn't be easy.
~~~
That was it for this chapter which introduces Rihad. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

In that case, I'm going to assume you enjoyed writing this a fair bit, because I enjoyed reading it. It's interesting to see Redguard culture, especially as indirectly as by someone who breaks it.

I suspect trouble is building up again for Arthago...

Woot, lots of information in this one. That informant is damn well-informed, although most of it I consider to be public knowledge.

And maybe I have a sick mind or something, but I wouldn't be surprised if the master plan for Arthago's infiltration happened to involve charming the 'girl who does not concern his affairs.' There was that little tidbit at the market after all.

Heh, that reminds me of Rajn's infiltration in Cyrodiil's palace. I hope Arthago does it a bit better though, and is not seen through within all of five seconds.

I seem to have another reader. Great. As to what you said Jack, Arthago will be paying a visit to the Concubine markets yet not in the way you have envisioned. I leave my update to enlighten you all, however.

~~~
The task laid out to me by Severus Scaevola was indeed nothing but trouble. If I were to succeed, I would earn the enmity of a few brothels and at least one noble. If I were to fail, then I had no idea what I could do to infiltrate the court save kidnapping the king's bastardd and ransoming his life against a position in the king's court.

Severus had given me a list of several brothels where I could find a certain weak-willed noble, as he described it. This noble was apparently easy to manipulate and, through him, I could gain entrance to the personal court of the king and become a lesser courtier at the least. I took solace in knowing that the famed Breton at the court of king Sorian, Sir Conrad Hornwood, had begun his rise as a lowly courtier as well. Of course, he rose quickly through the ranks by defeating several established Redguard nobles who were his superiors. I would face no such opposition from the other nobles, at least not in the violent fashion Sir Hornwood received it. The nobles would surely loathe me, consider me an upstart hedge knight and all that, yet for all their scorn at least I would be considered a Redguard knight born and bred, not a foreigner like Sir Hornwood.

Of course, my status as a sure-blooded Redguard would do nothing to lessen the insults I could receive from other Redguard nobles who were just as sure-blooded as I was. If I was lucky, I wouldn't have to fight more than two duels to keep my honour unstained. If I wasn't, then I could very well face the same welcome Sir Hornwood received.

All such thoughts faded from my mind, however, when I entered the district that housed the Rihad concubine market. It was also home to numerous brothels of various repute, since the words 'concubine' and 'prostitute' were often close in meaning and not only in Rihad. Severus had assured me that he knew all the madams from the brothels I was about to visit, and that almost all of them owned him favours. After visiting two of the brothels though, I found neither the noble I was looking nor the favours promised by Severus. A disappointing start to a hopefully not-so disappointing day. After the third brothel, however, my luck finally struck. It was an odd brothel by all accounts yet a classy one nonetheless. The madam was an old Redguard woman sharp of tongue and wit. All around her, I could see old men of various weariness with thin wooden canes in their hands. After asking about the noble several times, the old hag finally revealed that he was truly an active patron of the brothel.

"Names are dangerous in my line of work though," the woman kept saying somewhat cautiously, "And you would surely do best if you looked for another noble to pester. This one isn't likely to appreciate it."

"I trust you keep a ledger with the names of all your 'customers'." I said, not paying much attention to the woman's words. At first she pretended not to hear me as well, yet after I stuffed a pouch of Lhotun's gold in her pocket her mouth started unwinding. Besides, I knew from the very beginning that all respectable brothels in Rihad had annotated ledgers where all customers were listed. Prostitution was, after all, an honest, legal practice in Rihad and justly taxed by the state. Any brothel which didn't supply a ledger when the king's men came calling was either outlawed or shut down entirely. At least Severus had told me so.

"Well, now that you put it that way, young master, we do have a freshly written ledger as of today. It contains an up-to-date list of all patrons, including the one you seek. Would you like it in duplicate form? We have a very skilled scribe in our employ and we always aim to please our paying customers." The woman said eagerly as she weighed the pouch of gold and rubbed her hands. I frowned.

"I'm not a paying customer. Just give me the ledger and take me to the person I'm looking for and I'll leave you to your own...affairs." I said with some restraint as the woman went off to one of the old men with canes. I had little respect for either those who worked in brothels or the ones who paid for their services. I tried to show courtesy to the madam, however, since I never liked being rude.

"He will take you to the man you're looking for. Try not to be too forceful with either him or my girl. It wouldn't do to have bloodshed between my walls. There's enough liquid between these walls as it is and I wouldn't appreciate adding blood to the mix." The woman said with care for her choice of words. This place was vulgar enough as it was without the madam adding to the uncouth things already going on.

It turned out soon enough that the man leading me to the room where the noble was enjoying the services on offer was blind. All of the old men in the brothel were apparently. Hence the canes. It seemed to be a way in which the customers could keep their pride and honour to themselves, without anyone else witnessing the act. The ledger was enough dishonour in my opinion, however.

As I reached the door, I thanked the man and sent him off on his way. As I stood in front of the door, I thought about what my course of action was. I could barge into the room with my blade in my hand, but that would probably lead to 'forceful action' as the madam had called it. It was better to have a somewhat more subtle approach in these situations. Besides, a man was most vulnerable when caught with his pants down...literally. That, and very liable to do brash things like, for example, lashing out violently at the one who had just caught them in the act. As I prepared to open the door, Severus' words echoed in my mind. He had told me that the noble was married, and that it would be a stain on his honour if word were to spread that he had been caught bedding a prostitute. With those words in mind, I opened the door.

The noble, named Salahar, almost jumped out of the bed entirely when he saw me enter the room with my hand firmly on the hilt of my scimitar. His hands were also firmly grasping at something, yet it was far from a weapon. The prostitute, still in the bed, clumsily attempted to cover herself with the bed sheets. Salahar slowly got up from the other side of the bed, tugging at his pants as he looked at me, wide-eyed. After the prostitute fled the room wrapped in the bed-sheets, I finally felt ready to speak.

"How silly a married man can look in a whorehouse, wouldn't you agree?" I said, trying to sound calm and collected. Salahar looked anything but calm and collected.

"It is not comely for a stranger to barge inside a private room in such a manner. Neither is it comely to...interrupt a fellow man from his needs." Salahar said, fear and slight desperation in his voice. He tried appealing to my sense of honour. Little use it would do him.

"That sounds very shallow, coming from a man such as you. I have a poor view of men who cheat on their wives, Salahar. Especially nobles, who should be an example for the masses." I said, calmly moving over to the other side of the room. It was finely decorated in Imperial style, with lacquered oak furniture and carpets.

"How do you know my name? Do you...even know who I am? You have...you have no right to be here!" Salahar said with desperation as he seemed to scramble for a weapon. There were none at hand however.

"Why, I would say I have more right to be here than you do. I, for one, have paid more to be in this room." I said calmly, referring to the bribe I had given to the madam. "But enough about me. Does the king know you are cheating on your wife with such people of ill-repute?" His face seemed to go white with fear at the very mention of the king.

"The...the king has bastards of his own. What...what right does he have to judge me?" Salahar asked, his eyes filled with fear. He probably envisioned the executioner raising the blade as he spoke.

"His right as king." I said, letting the word 'king' float in the air a while, so the fear would properly ingrain itself in Salahar. "And since Rihad brothels are ever so orderly, I also have a ledger which proves that you have visited this very brothel. Many times in fact. Does your dear wife know you've been cheating on her with over eight different women these past months?"

"If you knew my wife...you would-"

"-would condemn you even more than I already do. Yes, I know." I said, interrupting the frightened Salahar.

"Please, have reason. I can pay you with your weight in gold, if only you kept silent. I promise it shall...never happen again. That I swear." The man seemed so desperate, he was already swearing oaths so I could keep my silence. Severus had been right when he named the noble weak-willed.

"Save your gold. What would your whores do without it? Then again, that really isn't my concern. There are some ways however in which you can regain your honour in my eyes...and in which no one else shall know about your adulterous pursuits." I said, looking into the eyes of the frightened man. If it was up to me, I would have gladly slain the man myself, yet he was the only way in which I could have gained entry into the king's court.

"Yes?" He asked as the light in his eyes seemed to return. I could also see a glint of joy.

"Present me to the king as a travelling knight who would defend his name by any means available to him. Vouch for me and praise me for my skill, both martial and diplomatic. If you succeed, I will keep my silence regarding this matter. If you fail, then you will fall together with me, once the king finds out about your pass-time." I said with a cold voice. It was really the only choice I had available, though it left room for error.

"Of course. Anything you ask, just keep silent on this matter. If my wife's brother finds out he would surely...oh, bugger, I've already said too much. Meet me tomorrow in the reception hall of my king's palace. We will make a sworn knight of you yet." He said as he seemed to regain his calm and composure. I forced myself not to smile however because of my small success.

"Where's the 'we' in this, my lord? If you fail, you will be the one to face the executioner...or worse. Farewell, and expect me tomorrow at the palace." I said brusquely as I turned and left the room.

I grinned as I left the whorehouse, a large grin of success and a smirk of pride. I had never really cultivated my skill with threatening people and appearing menacing in general, yet I was overjoyed at seeing how I could terrorize the noble with the mere mention of his wife, the king and the ledger with his name on it. It had probably never occurred to the noble that, sooner or later, someone would use such a ledger against him. Ultimately however, men learn from their mistakes. Next time, the noble would probably be harder to blackmail.

Severus had told me shortly before I left the tavern that we were to meet in discreet places and that I should try to avoid his home, since people could notice. Rihad was apparently a place where most of the walls had eyes and the nobles all strived to be one step ahead of each other when it came to information. Severus had also warned me that, if I succeeded in entering the court, I should treat him with cold indifference so as not to arouse any suspicions whatsoever.

For the time being however, my sole concern was finding a place to sleep. An inn would do finely and soon enough I found one fitting my tastes. It looked to be a well-tended building from the outside, cosy and welcoming to travellers weary from the roads. After renting a room for twenty drakes, I bought a drink and stood at the bar a little to enjoy my ale. A refreshment was welcome after such a hard day in which I had met a bounty hunter, killed a man and blackmailed a noble. Of course, it was nothing Salahar could praise me for so only the eradication of the goblin clan would have to do. That, and what other things Salahar might invent over night, in bed with his wife. I would have no one to warm my bed as Salahar had, yet I was thankful that I at least had a warm, cosy bed and that nobody would bother me. Nobody except for the damn bounty hunter, but he was currently the least of my problems.
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I hoped you liked this update in which we start delving into the morass which is...Rihad!

Sorry about the delay in replying to this story. I have been busy lately. I certainly remember Oakheart quite clearly though. Arthago will definitely have his hands full dealing with that one for sure.

With this recent update I have to say I liked the sly way Arthago dealt with him. Now all he'll have to do is rise up in the ranks, surely a task harder than it sounds.